Then a new day dawned and a PET scan performed Tuesday showed lesions on the lower spine, the upper pelvis and also deep under the left rib, thinning the bone and causing havoc with nighttime sleep and daytime movement. Liken the discomfort unto a bruised rib. Kind of.
Yesterday, prayers from family and friends and a helpful technician giving me extra doses of fentanyl helped me breeze through two bone core biopsies in my upper pelvis. Now we wait for the definitive news from pathology to tell that sorry old story that breast cancer has spread to the bones.
CHOICE
You’ve come to the oncologist’s office
to talk about your options.
You view the scans,
to talk about your options.
You view the scans,
forgetting to breathe.
“It’s metastasized.” He frowns,
pointing to where and where.
“It’s metastasized.” He frowns,
pointing to where and where.
He ticks off the preferred treatment,
the side effects,
low rates of success.
the side effects,
low rates of success.
“It’s your choice,” he says,
closing your folder,
“but we need to start tomorrow.”
closing your folder,
“but we need to start tomorrow.”
You think of yesterday
when you lived in a different universe,
of a waitress,
hand on her hip, asking,
when you lived in a different universe,
of a waitress,
hand on her hip, asking,
“Hon, you want mustard or mayo
on that sandwich?”
on that sandwich?”
Chew on that one. Some choices are mundane, a few are critical. Time will tell, and decisions will be made with prayer and the Holy Spirit backing us up.
While meditating this morning, Psalms 91 came to mind. (Joyce Meyer has a great sermon about Psalms 91 on YouTube here). These are the first two verses in the scripture, but read the entire psalm for comfort.
He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust. (Psalms 91:1-2)
photo by Carol Lewis
I am trusting and desiring to be a good example of dealing with cancer in a realistic and God centered manner so that I can give Julie that as a legacy. My mother did the same for me in 2000 when she dealt with the cancer issue, and was never fearful of one day following the next. Nor am I, and I trust that Julie will also face her own mortality with faith and dignity.
Next posting with be all about knitting, I promise.
Next posting with be all about knitting, I promise.
Praying for you, Nancy.
ReplyDeleteYou are a good example for us, as well. I'm praying too. Much love, and hugs...
ReplyDeleteDearest Nancy sending many Celtic Blessings your way.xxx
ReplyDeleteOh Nancy.... What a ghastly turnaround - I send you a hug and prayers for all that lies ahead for you. I'll be in touch off the blog but want you to know I am thinking of you and praying for you across the ocean as soon as I read this just now. E xx
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry to read this. I am praying too. That is a moving poem. Much love...
ReplyDeleteAw, man, what news. But you are strong in this Nancy so you go on that. BE thinking about you.
ReplyDeleteI will pray along with you my friend! I know that it is hard to go thru all of the tests and results! I am here, praying! HUGS!
ReplyDeleteI will pray for you, Nancy!
ReplyDeletexofrances
Such difficult news. I admire the focused grace with which you are approaching these days. Thinking of you.
ReplyDeleteOh Nancy, my thoughts and well wishes are with you. I send you strength. This is your blog and you post about whatever you want. You have our support.
ReplyDeleteYour remain on my prayer list, personal and public, Nancy. How well I remember those days with Dave; amongst everything, there was always laughter because some of the sheer crap we went through we had to laugh. That is, after I went postal and got the lead out of some pants. LOL Darling Sister in Christ, I absolutely HATE this for you; if I could change it, I would. I can pray. I can pray. In Him, now and for all eternity. love.
ReplyDelete