{This is a post from 2007 that I wrote on a different blog, and I am reposting it here.)
Today I was on the floor again.
Syncopal episode is the term that the doctor uses for it. I just say "I fainted." It happened on Saturday evening when I was exercising, and it happened again today after I walked up some stairs at work and sat down at my desk. Today, once again, I found myself wondering why I had lost control of my thoughts, and then I realized that I was actually down on the floor, waking up.
After the first time, I had gone to see the doctor. That was yesterday, and she had ordered an EKG. When the EKG was done, the nurse looked at the results and said, "It's abnormal, but I don't know what it means." Then she left the room.
A year and a half ago, I was going through breast cancer treatment. Now with the nurse's announcement of an abnormal EKG, it looked like maybe I was going to have another health issue. So I decided it would be a good time to pray.
"Dear God," I started, and then paused, and then the thing that seemed right to me to say as I continued was: "whatever!" And what I meant by that was, "whatever the outcome of this is, whether I have heart problems, or something else, or nothing at all, it's in your hands, God, and I'm OK with that. I don't actually need to ask you for an outcome of any kind, because I trust you with anything. I'll just wait and see what happens and try to be your witness to the people I encounter in whatever the situation is." And although I only used the one word, "whatever", I think God knew what I meant.
The reason I was able to pray this prayer, instead of asking God to keep me from illness or harm, was because of the cancer I had just gone through. He had been with me in a strong and loving way throughout that time, and had shown me in many ways how much he cared for me (see here and here). Because I knew this, I had suddenly realized, when I started to pray, that I had no fear of any new illness.
The doctor then came in and told me that the EKG looked identical to the one I had two years earlier, so it wasn't really abnormal after all. However, she wanted me to see a cardiologist. And I was actually in the process of making that appointment when I fainted again today. And Microsoft Security came, and the paramedics came, and off I eventually went to the ER!
Now I'm sitting in a hospital room, admitted for observation and tests, and I still feel the way I felt when I prayed yesterday: I am not afraid. A new illness might even be a new adventure in learning more about the depth of God's love. For what can separate us from the love of Christ? Certainly not illness. "For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor heavenly rulers, nor things that are present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:38-39).
No, I still say, "Dear God--whatever! I'm with you, and that's all that matters."
Showing posts with label cancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cancer. Show all posts
Monday, February 27, 2012
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
A Dog's Attitude
This is a post I wrote on April 28, 2007:
Friday was a good day: I got the magenta tray at the cafeteria.
The cafeteria in our building at work has lots of gray and yellow trays, some brown ones, and a few blue ones, but there is only one magenta tray. Since pink is my favorite color, I always hope that I will get that tray, and when I do, I really enjoy it.
Maybe if you're reading this, you're thinking, "What's the big deal about what color your cafeteria tray is?" True, it's not a big deal. But I like to take pleasure in all sorts of little things. Savoring them makes my day more enjoyable.
The other day I once again came across a line in The Fellowship of the Ring that I really like. Gandalf the wizard has just told the hobbit Sam that he is going to accompany Frodo on his journey, which means that Sam will get to see Elves, something he's always longed to do.
"Me, sir!" cried Sam, springing up like a dog invited for a walk.
I love the image because it immediately conveys a great deal of excitement. Yet when we think about it, what are dogs so excited about? Just a walk! But they get a great deal of pleasure out of it.
My dog Hana waits every morning for me to sit down with my bowl of cereal, because she knows I will give her two pieces of it. It's only two pieces of cereal, usually Cheerios, so not a big deal, but to her it's a very happy moment.
Dogs are optimists, too. Every time I prepare a meal, Hana thinks, despite the mountain of previous experience, that this time, maybe the meal is going to be for her. And her tail is almost always ready to wag; she expects good things out of life.
I think that we can learn a lot from dogs' attitude. With God as our father, we can expect good things out of life, too. That's not to say that everything will always be rosy. But we can know that he is with us and will see us through any hard times. I found this out a year ago as I was going through cancer. God didn't make the cancer magically disappear, but he did sustain me as I underwent surgery, chemo, and radiation. I knew that in the long run, whatever the prognosis (mine ended up being good), God was going to be there in the end.
And then there were those little things, like the magenta cafeteria tray. God put a lot of them in my life, and when I looked for them, I found them. Things like the kindness of fellow co-workers, or a daffodil that the radiation oncology center gave me. It made a big difference to how I experienced a year of cancer treatments. I could have looked for the unpleasant, difficult things, or I could have just not looked for anything. But instead I looked for the little fun or nice things, and they were there to be found, and so my days were more pleasant and enjoyable than they might otherwise have been.
What's more, because I found those little good things, I was able to give thanks to God. I knew he was there helping me get through a bad time. In fact, I felt his presence more closely during that cancer year than I ever had before. That in itself brought joy to me beyond what I can describe.
I know it sounds silly to say I had a good day because I got the magenta tray at the cafeteria. But I have a fun life. And a lot of it is because I take pleasure in the little things.
Friday was a good day: I got the magenta tray at the cafeteria.
The cafeteria in our building at work has lots of gray and yellow trays, some brown ones, and a few blue ones, but there is only one magenta tray. Since pink is my favorite color, I always hope that I will get that tray, and when I do, I really enjoy it.
Maybe if you're reading this, you're thinking, "What's the big deal about what color your cafeteria tray is?" True, it's not a big deal. But I like to take pleasure in all sorts of little things. Savoring them makes my day more enjoyable.
The other day I once again came across a line in The Fellowship of the Ring that I really like. Gandalf the wizard has just told the hobbit Sam that he is going to accompany Frodo on his journey, which means that Sam will get to see Elves, something he's always longed to do.
"Me, sir!" cried Sam, springing up like a dog invited for a walk.
I love the image because it immediately conveys a great deal of excitement. Yet when we think about it, what are dogs so excited about? Just a walk! But they get a great deal of pleasure out of it.
My dog Hana waits every morning for me to sit down with my bowl of cereal, because she knows I will give her two pieces of it. It's only two pieces of cereal, usually Cheerios, so not a big deal, but to her it's a very happy moment.
Dogs are optimists, too. Every time I prepare a meal, Hana thinks, despite the mountain of previous experience, that this time, maybe the meal is going to be for her. And her tail is almost always ready to wag; she expects good things out of life.
I think that we can learn a lot from dogs' attitude. With God as our father, we can expect good things out of life, too. That's not to say that everything will always be rosy. But we can know that he is with us and will see us through any hard times. I found this out a year ago as I was going through cancer. God didn't make the cancer magically disappear, but he did sustain me as I underwent surgery, chemo, and radiation. I knew that in the long run, whatever the prognosis (mine ended up being good), God was going to be there in the end.
And then there were those little things, like the magenta cafeteria tray. God put a lot of them in my life, and when I looked for them, I found them. Things like the kindness of fellow co-workers, or a daffodil that the radiation oncology center gave me. It made a big difference to how I experienced a year of cancer treatments. I could have looked for the unpleasant, difficult things, or I could have just not looked for anything. But instead I looked for the little fun or nice things, and they were there to be found, and so my days were more pleasant and enjoyable than they might otherwise have been.
What's more, because I found those little good things, I was able to give thanks to God. I knew he was there helping me get through a bad time. In fact, I felt his presence more closely during that cancer year than I ever had before. That in itself brought joy to me beyond what I can describe.
I know it sounds silly to say I had a good day because I got the magenta tray at the cafeteria. But I have a fun life. And a lot of it is because I take pleasure in the little things.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
How God Reminded Me He Would Be with Me
In the summer of 2005 I happened to mention to my daughter that my inner elbows ached whenever I exercised or took my migraine prescription, and she urged me to tell my doctor. This led to an EKG, which looked pretty good, but still my doctor wanted me to see a cardiologist. Meanwhile, I was called back from my routine yearly mammogram because they had spotted something suspicious.
So, I went through two series of escalating tests: stress EKG and electron beam tomography; and second mammogram and ultrasound. Finally a weekend came in September 2005 where, on the Friday, I had a needle biopsy on the lump that had been found. Then, on the Monday, I was scheduled for an angiogram (cardiac catheterization) for my heart.
The cardiologist had told me that there was a slight risk of death associated with the angiogram. Normally I have no fear of death, ever since, at the age of 20, I first read The Last Battle in the Narnia series. What could be better than to go on to a place more beautiful than the most beautiful place on earth, and be with God? But the upcoming angiogram spooked me for some reason. Perhaps it was because our first grandchild was due to be born in November, and I didn't want to miss knowing her. At any rate, I was nervous. The night before, we went over to Seattle (we live in a suburb across Lake Washington). As we crossed the floating bridge, I remember looking at one of my favorite sights, the lights on the other floating bridge, strung across the lake like a mile-long strand of jewels, and thinking that I might never see them again.
The next morning the angiogram went smoothly, and the cardiologist found that my heart was perfectly healthy (so my arm aches are just a mystery). Afterwards as I was recovering from the sedatives they had given me, I discovered that the two nurses who were caring for me were Christians, and that each of them sang in their church choirs, just like I do. I thought that this was an amazing coincidence, because there are not many Christians in the Seattle area. It then hit me that God was telling me something. He was actually saying to me, "You were scared of this angiogram, but you had forgotten how in control I am. I am so in control that I can arrange, in an area and in a time when there are very few Christians, that not just one but both of your nurses will be choir-singing Christians."
Then I went home to recover further from the angiogram, and about two hours later, my doctor called to tell me that I had breast cancer.
Although at first I was a bit overwhelmed by the news, it was not long before I remembered the message God had given me that morning. The striking thing about it was God's timing. He had let me know that he cared about me and was in control BEFORE I got my cancer diagnosis. I still didn't know if everything would be fine or not; I still knew that I could die of this cancer. But I did know the most important thing of all, and that was that God was with me in the midst of it. That set the tone for how I experienced the whole following 8 months of cancer treatments.
As it turned out, the surgery that I had removed all the cancer I had at the time, and with chemo, radiation, and hormonal therapy, I have an 85-90% chance of being cancer-free in 10 years. So I have been blessed in the outcome. But even had it not been so, if I had only a slim chance of survival, I would still be able to go forward confidently, because God has assured me that he is with me and loves me. And I really didn't need a special message from God to tell me that. He has told us that throughout the Bible. He has told us that in the person of his son Jesus. I just hadn't remembered that very well before my angiogram. Since God was kind enough to give me a little extra help to keep it in mind, I want to share it with everyone else. There's nothing so bad or scary that God can't be with us in it and bring joy to us in the midst of fear and pain. That was certainly my experience with God in the midst of cancer.
So, I went through two series of escalating tests: stress EKG and electron beam tomography; and second mammogram and ultrasound. Finally a weekend came in September 2005 where, on the Friday, I had a needle biopsy on the lump that had been found. Then, on the Monday, I was scheduled for an angiogram (cardiac catheterization) for my heart.
The cardiologist had told me that there was a slight risk of death associated with the angiogram. Normally I have no fear of death, ever since, at the age of 20, I first read The Last Battle in the Narnia series. What could be better than to go on to a place more beautiful than the most beautiful place on earth, and be with God? But the upcoming angiogram spooked me for some reason. Perhaps it was because our first grandchild was due to be born in November, and I didn't want to miss knowing her. At any rate, I was nervous. The night before, we went over to Seattle (we live in a suburb across Lake Washington). As we crossed the floating bridge, I remember looking at one of my favorite sights, the lights on the other floating bridge, strung across the lake like a mile-long strand of jewels, and thinking that I might never see them again.
The next morning the angiogram went smoothly, and the cardiologist found that my heart was perfectly healthy (so my arm aches are just a mystery). Afterwards as I was recovering from the sedatives they had given me, I discovered that the two nurses who were caring for me were Christians, and that each of them sang in their church choirs, just like I do. I thought that this was an amazing coincidence, because there are not many Christians in the Seattle area. It then hit me that God was telling me something. He was actually saying to me, "You were scared of this angiogram, but you had forgotten how in control I am. I am so in control that I can arrange, in an area and in a time when there are very few Christians, that not just one but both of your nurses will be choir-singing Christians."
Then I went home to recover further from the angiogram, and about two hours later, my doctor called to tell me that I had breast cancer.
Although at first I was a bit overwhelmed by the news, it was not long before I remembered the message God had given me that morning. The striking thing about it was God's timing. He had let me know that he cared about me and was in control BEFORE I got my cancer diagnosis. I still didn't know if everything would be fine or not; I still knew that I could die of this cancer. But I did know the most important thing of all, and that was that God was with me in the midst of it. That set the tone for how I experienced the whole following 8 months of cancer treatments.
As it turned out, the surgery that I had removed all the cancer I had at the time, and with chemo, radiation, and hormonal therapy, I have an 85-90% chance of being cancer-free in 10 years. So I have been blessed in the outcome. But even had it not been so, if I had only a slim chance of survival, I would still be able to go forward confidently, because God has assured me that he is with me and loves me. And I really didn't need a special message from God to tell me that. He has told us that throughout the Bible. He has told us that in the person of his son Jesus. I just hadn't remembered that very well before my angiogram. Since God was kind enough to give me a little extra help to keep it in mind, I want to share it with everyone else. There's nothing so bad or scary that God can't be with us in it and bring joy to us in the midst of fear and pain. That was certainly my experience with God in the midst of cancer.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
