There are certain books in your life that can close yet still remain on your shelf. By sitting on the shelf they have the potential to be opened at any time. But I don’t need to be staring at The Cancer Diary, reading it daily. It’s been a little over four years since my husband finished treatment for cancer. Four years filled with awesome gifts and devastating lows. Not only does cancer affect health, but it trickles into every facet of one’s life.
Relationships. Finances. Friendships. Family. Time. Faith.
Todd - 2 years before diagnosis
Every headache, stomach ache, lump or pain raises flags in my mind. How can it not? Especially when I have our oncology doctor’s number in my cell phone file. Even last year, a simple nodule on the back of my husband’s neck caused the medical community to move at lightening speed. Instead of waiting weeks to watch it and see multiple doctors, my husband saw a surgeon within 24 hours of bringing the lump to his oncologist’s attention. And it was completely biopsied with path reports within another 24 hours. No longer is my husband’s medical complaints ever considered minor. He is, in fact, flagged for life. “You’ve had cancer?” they ask, and then move his chart to the priority slot.
I don’t want to live worried about headaches and pains. There’s no freedom in that mindset. So I’ve chosen to adopt this book mentality with regards to cancer. When I need to know I can open the book. I know exactly where we stopped so there’s no worry in losing my spot. But I don’t need to live with it staring me in the face. And that involves faith, and trust, and casting those worries elsewhere.
On the Lord. Daily.
I’m writing about cancer today because when I write it brings healing. It’s a part of who I am now. I can’t go through Caribou Coffee during Breast Cancer awareness month and not feel compelled to buy Amy’s Blend, or donate, or share some of my story. When I wear my Livestrong bracelet I want to share my story. And likewise, if I see someone wear one I am not afraid to start a conversation. In fact, there probably is not one week that goes by where m story doesn't come out. When I read about others’ journies via the blogworld my heart aches for the trials and rejoices for the victories. My heart seems to be tuned in to hear that two syllable word...cancer.
family - 2 years after diagnosis
As the wife of a cancer survivor I’ve learned that I can be strong, and brave, and that I can feel deeply. It became so apparent to me that I was masking the pains and hurts in my life when Todd was sick. Instead of clinging to all the facades I had no choice but to let every one of my “I’ve got it all together” masks shatter at our Savior’s feet. In letting go, I began to find my voice, and I began to write. And in writing it gives me freedom. Freedom to admit that my life is messy, that I struggle, that I hurt, and that I rejoice. Tucked in all of those honest moments is a heart that continually strives to seek and bring glory to our King, our Savior.
Thank you to all who read my blog. Your comments are sweet and motivating. It’s an interesting thing, this blogging. My heart is put on the line many times…and yet I still come back, still write, still seek joy. Through it all I can boldly state that the Lord is good in all times….So again thank you. Will all my posts be like this? Nope. But there’ll be some because in remembering and writing there’s healing. Healing and freedom.
___________________________________
If you know of any bloggers out there going through a journey with health will you let me know? I’d love to comment, to offer encouragement, and to lend an ear. I have been blessed throughout the years by various friends found through my blogging world. To all of you: Thank you.
___________________________________
One last thing. Would you keep my sweet Samuel, the cutie from the paper or plastic pictures from yesterday, in your prayers? He's got a fever today...and I'm sure he'll be fine...but, I always value and appreciate prayer.
