Today is my two year cancerversary. It’s been two years since that life-changing day I was diagnosed. I went home that night and became a writer when I wrote my first cancer post at 4:30 in the morning. What a journey it has been.
Today I hold in my hand a fresh-off-the-presses golden ticket: yesterday’s clean PET scan report. My cancer is in remission. This, my friends, is the science-y paperwork proof of my God-orchestrated miracle.
I believe in God — and miracles — now more than ever. Remember I’ve had cancer (or suspected cancer) in my left breast, right breast, lymph nodes, liver, spine and lung over these past two years. That is a whole lotta cancer, people.
And right now I have No Evidence of Disease.
It is a straight up miracle: I just don’t see any other way to see it. Some spots, like the lung spot, were cut out and weighed and measured in a lab. Other spots, like my spine spot, were seared with God’s finger and simply disappeared. It is not lost on me that it is possible to cut a wedge out of the lung, and impossible to remove a vertebrae. My miracles feel purposeful and designed.
I don’t know why God allowed me to have cancer. I don’t know why God allows me now to be cancer-free. Truth is, I don’t really care why. I do know I will Do Today Well both because of and in spite of my miracle. Because Doing Today Well is about checking circumstances at the door and just doing it well, whatever it may be.
Our celebrations last night were small. The girls and I WOoo HOOOed in the car as I explained to them the day’s happenings. Brad bought me a happy piece of art for our wall: a scene that reminds us both of our honeymoon.
When I was first diagnosed, I asked — begged — God for fifty more years to spend raising my babies (at four-years-old and ten-months-old they were indeed babies!) I also resolved to Do Today Well and make the most of whatever time I have. It’s a delicate balance: hoping for the best and living for today; Brad is really the key to my executing this piece with any perspective.
That’s my hairy scary prayer in this life where I have no promises, no guarantees: 47+ more years. Thank you for praying it along with me!