You know, Friday, I was at the Cancer Center, and I met a woman. She had the pink hat pulled low, but some wisps of hair stuck out. I knew she was 'one of us', so to speak. WhiteStone is so good about just reaching out to people. It's odd. I'm a blabber. But you know, sometimes, when it really, really matters, I just get shy and awkward. I was reading (I'm on a Garrison Keillor kick. I was re-reading Lake Wobegon, and loving the simplicity of it), but I was also watching this woman. She was younger than me, and her two young children were with her. Her husband, too. She talked to the kids matter-of-factly about coming back to sit with her while she had chemo. Anyhow, I listened for a while, while pretending to read. Finally, I got the nerve to speak. I meant to give her encouragement, but was amazed to find that she was dealing with metatastic breast cancer, that it is in her liver, and her lungs. She had breast cancer five years ago, and was thinking that she was in the clear...and then this. "I didn't know," she said. "I thought that because my mammograms were good, I was okay. I did not know that if it came back, it would probably be some place else." "Yes," I said. "Liver, lungs, brain, bones," and even while I said it, I was trying to figure out where I heard that. I don't think that I was told that at the Cancer Center either. I think that I read it somewhere. The woman continued: "I've got young kids. I have to take ativan, or I'd go crazy. I cannot bear to think of (her voice broke off and she simply mouthed the words so that her children would not hear) dying." I looked at her, and I'm telling you, she had the fiercest eyes I've ever seen. We talked some more, but this woman is a fighter. It wasn't long before her name was called, and she left her children with her husband, telling them that they could all come back 'in a few minutes'.
I sat there, shocked a little. Okay. Shocked a lot. She is so young, and those children. 10 and 8, maybe. I have always counted myself lucky that my children were grown when this all began. Her eyes, and the faces of her children haunt me still.
I'm going to be honest here. I'm having a hard time now. There is a lot of pain. I read stuff online and scared the puckydoo out of myself. I'm struggling to not give way to speculation and fear. This cold has kicked my butt, and I'm exausted. I'm not going to school (I still have another week of spring break), but I have picked up more hours at work. Not complaining, but it aggravates the pain. We need the money though, so let's just call that a blessing. It's just a hard time right now, mentally and physically, and I find myself doing what I always do when the going gets rough. I am being still and knowing that He is God. It'll all come right again, but I can't really write this minute, because I cannot seem to stop thinking about the 'what ifs'. They dominate my thoughts. I'll write about what I know, but prefer not to write about what I don't know. As soon as I get my wits gathered, I'll be back.
Happy Easter everyone. Alleluia! God is good. Celebrate His gift to us.