Breath of peace
It’s official. My lung surgery is scheduled for 7:30am on November 7th.
After I spoke with Dr. Wonderful (oncologist) and Dr. Wizard (pulmonary surgeon) about the plan for surgery after the biopsy result, or non-result, as it happened to be, I felt a deep sense of peace.
This doesn’t actually make a lot of sense since I’m having major surgery to determine whether the spot that looks suspicious is in fact cancer.
And yet, I am peaceful.
Usually, if I feel a niggling of worry, I work to pray it away because worry is a joy stealer. Now, I’m feeling this niggling of peace. I’m breathing it in and savoring it. I cannot explain it well (obviously), but I am so grateful for this peace that is draped over me like a heavy quilt.
This peace allows me to be normal Mommy. My mind is not plagued by what-ifs and the deep desire to write to my children, to make videos for them, to record it all. Instead, I’m doing all the happy day-to-day things that fill my ordinary days. I’m DIY-ing Halloween costumes. Well, technically costume (singular) because someone (Greta, I’m looking at you kid) gives a different answer every time I ask her what she wants to be. I’m normal Mommy who can deal with tantrums without crying myself, I can organize upcoming logistics without stress, I can do my small part-time job effectively and efficiently. I love being Normal Mommy. Brad and I have worked together to create a life we love: I cherish these ordinary days.
The best case scenario that begins on November 7th is that I have the lung surgery and the spot in my lung is not cancer. I’ll spend several weeks recovering, first at the hospital, then at my parent’s house. SuperGramma is swooping in again to stay at my house with Brad and the girls. We are very grateful as it keeps the girls’ lives as normal as possible, and gives them some wonderful quality time with their beloved SuperGramma. Phenom, friends and neighbors are waiting in the wings with offers of help as well. I’ve been told I’ve got six weeks of no lifting Greta (or anything heavier than a gallon of milk), so that will be, um, interesting. But, all this sounds wonderful for that no cancer result.
If there is cancer, then I’ll still have the post-surgery recovery, but I’ll also start another hardcore round of eighteen weeks of intense chemotherapy (bald again!), after which I’ll move on to what they call “maintentance chemo,” wherein I will be on chemotherapy drugs for the rest of my life. But, all this sounds wonderful as it means that there is equipment in the arsenal to keep the cancer down.
I write this calmly, peacefully. Weird, right?
Early on in my cancer journey, I felt an annointing of peace and calm that can only come from the Lord. The peace did not come from a promise or certainty that I would live, or I would have a long cancer-free existence. My peace came from the knowledge that God is in control. I do believe that my life is His, and good will come. I trust that this surgery is the right next step: it is both diagnostic and theraputic no matter what the results show.
This goodness, this peace feels like blanket that covers up the chill. Instead of being uncomfortable and anxious, I am cozy, resting and trusting that this will all be okay.
Thank you for the prayers and messages of love I’ve been receiving over the past week; I am grateful beyond words.
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. — Phillipians 4:6-7
I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. — John 16:33