My radiation/chemo treatment was scheduled to begin two weeks after the first appointment with Dr. Reynolds. I panicked, thinking that the cancer would surely spread in that time. My need to begin attacking these foreign invaders was intense. Dr. Reynolds reassured me that it takes time to schedule and create a plan for my treatment.
I think there was an ulterior motive to the wait. More preparation appointments — a port and a second biopsy. (The topic of next week’s installment.)
There was plenty of contemplation time in the two weeks waiting for the treatment to begin. Cancer was all I could think about. Many of you can relate to the anxiety of a brain filled with the unknown.
My Aunt Alice, God bless her soul, often said it was practicing yoga that got her through the last years of her cancer. She died too young, having lived 20 years beyond her initial diagnosis. I’m more than positive she is up in heaven rooting for me and praying with my mom that I be strong.
I have a farmer market business and did a whopping business in 2022. Not knowing if I would be able to pursue this love of mine due to health reasons, I no longer had any desire to invest in canning products or planting a garden. In my mind, I had to give up my business, so I decided to spend a little more money on self-care, ready to try anything to feel better.
I texted my step-daughter and asked about a yoga class. Jessica taught classes at Transitions and suggested a restorative yoga class on Sundays at 4 p.m. I was, after all, a beginner and didn’t want to get in over my head. Somehow restoration yoga seemed appropriate and hopefully not to strenuous.
Sunday afternoon was perfect timing. In turn I invited my sister-in-law, who practices yoga to join us. “Let’s make it a threesome.” And we did. It was awesome — singing bowls and all. If you have never experienced singing bowls, just Google it.
I wasn’t sure what to expect as a result after that session, but I slept through the night, in my bed, and not on the couch coughing. I planned on returning as often as I could — which ended up not being for a long time after the treatment ended, having no idea what lay ahead in the next three months.
During those days of waiting, I received coordinated treatment schedules from the cancer center and the hospital. It appeared to be grueling. Keeping all those appointments straight would take a person not preoccupied with the consequences of a cancer diagnosis.
Many hours of those days were spent talking to God, with God, addressing my Heavenly Father by name, asking Him questions like, “Why me? What does this diagnosis mean to my life? Please don’t abandon me.”
Then, there was a good part of my preoccupation with “the mask.”
I dreaded wearing that mask more than any test, surgery or appointment in early March.
Well, that dread fluctuated with upcoming things I had not yet experienced and hopefully never have to experience again.
Somehow, I had to get over my fear of enclosed places. The medical staff was against taking drugs that would affect the entire day. I left the option of taking a sedative open because I had no idea how I was going to wear that mask. Just thinking about the first experience took my breath away, and believe me, I had no breath to spare.
I prayed and lay in bed at night imagining the two technicians lowering the mask over my face, the sound of the snaps pressing my head tightly to the scanner bed. There was no turning my head from side to side. What if I had to cough? Seriously, I thought about this every night up until the first treatment. I kept telling myself I could do anything for 15 minutes.
I had to do this. Somehow, I had to do this — without drugs. For six weeks, five days a week, I had to conquer this fear.
By the end of the weeks leading up to the first radiation treatment on Monday, March 20, God gave me this message. Rather than opting to take drugs like Ativan every day of the week to quell my fears of small spaces — God put this thought in my brain.
“In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.
And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.” Ephesians 6:16-18
He heard my prayers. I fully embraced the thought that this was my helmet of salvation. In these two weeks of struggling to eat (How many times does a doctor tell you to bulk up? One of the early symptoms of lung cancer happens to be weight loss.) and managing pain in my jaw and ear, I did find a sense of peace and acceptance for my fate.
In addition to this revelation, I received another message from a sermon by Stephen Armstrong of Verse by Verse Ministry in the middle of the night. Somehow the sound of his voice, or a recording of thunderstorms took my mind off myself and helped me fall back to sleep. Segments I consciously heard before falling asleep again were so relevant to my situation that I knew it was God speaking affirmation to me.
I was in the book of Matthew at that time. Appropriately enough, those chapters I remember included Jesus’ miracles — his power over our bodies power over nature, and power over the supernatural. Wow.
The greatest message delivered by Pastor Armstrong at that time was about what sets Christians apart from non-believers. It’s not that Christians do not have trials in this lifetime. Rather, it is the way we handle them. If we have faith, we walk through these times of trial with no fear. No fear. Eyes on eternity.
As much as I want to see my new grandchildren grow up and my first two little “grandgirls,” now 12 years old, go to prom or get married and have children of their own I have accepted this conclusion. The next few months, and God-willing years of my life, I will be tasked with walking in faith, not fear.
That includes the fear of the mask, radiation, the upcoming surgery and chemo.
I will do my best to trust my earthly body to my doctor’s care, because my soul belongs to Jesus.
INDYchildrendotme 
Leave a comment