I was moved today. I was moved to open my purse, pull out my little notepad I keep in there just in case a kid needs to be entertained with drawing, and write it down. God wants me there because he wants to be there too. Now, I do not remember if this was a quote from the Bible or Pastor Alan's mantra. But, I wrote it down.
About the 8th day in a row of my whole brain radiation treatments, I began to feel a grudge towards my life. Slowly, I began to hate my body. How could it be doing this to me? I mean, I know my body is freaking awesome for fighting cancer and keeping me alive thus far. But, really, how could it be stage IV cancer at the first symptom of a swollen, throbbing left breast on March 7, 2009, in the Vail Valley at 10,000 feet? I was snow shoeing to a hut with family and friends. I think it was a gift from God that I was on that trip. I almost didn't go worrying about what to to do with the kids and whether I could get my butt up the inclines with a pack after a good five year siesta from snowshoeing, skiing, and even hiking more then a mile one way. I believe the pressure of the high altitude induced the swelling and my conversation with my brother-in-law, an OR nurse, who told me to go in immediately on Monday. Had I not been there at that time, would the cancer that had spread to my liver have created a tumor that was beyond treatable size? Would the cancer in my breast spread to my chest wall or lungs? Would I be here today? I was there at 10,000 feet. But, I wasn't a lone.
So I am driving to my 8th appointment, and I wonder, What would happen if I just stopped this? What if I just stopped doing this cancer gig? How long would it take for IT to take over my body? This is when I began to say a mantra that I repeat nearly everyday, I am where I am supposed be. As I drove to get shot in the head with powerful lasers that may or may not permanently damage brain functions controlling some pretty important body functions, I repeated: I am where I am supposed be, I am where I am supposed be, I am where I am supposed be...
I am told that I am an inspiration. So is that it? I got cancer to be an inspiration? Well, maybe. After hearing Pastor Alan's mantra, my mind immediately flashed to the infusion I have tomorrow. Every three weeks, I go to the Rocky Mountain Cancer Center and sit down in the recliner for two hours. Today, I thought...I am there because God wants to be there too. God shines through me as I smile and make others smile. I don't like seeing the other patients feeling gloomy so I share my Mrs. Sunshine positive spirit. Remember Mr. Dark Cloud that I dredded each time he sat next to me? Well, I listened to him. I prayed for him. He stopped yelling at his wife. His estranged son came home. He got to feeling pretty good for nearly a year. He found a peace and even stopped me in the hall to thank me about a year ago. Alas, his cancer was all over his lower body, and he passed away a couple of months ago. Yes, he passed away with mended relationships and, I guessing, a smile.
I don't know how long I am going to last. Yes, that scares me sometimes. But, I sort of thought today that God needs me to take him every three weeks to that treatment room to share his smile for a really long time, a really, really long time. Well, whatever gets you through it, right? It doesn't make much sense, but I am exactly where I am supposed to be exactly when I am supposed to be there. And, I take Him with me.
PS A woman came to me as I sat there with Jack on my lap during communion meditation time at church. She whispered in my ear and asked if she could pray for me. I nodded my head, kissed the top of Jack's head, and began to cry. She held my shoulders, she was in the pew behind me, and closed her eyes and prayed silently. This woman was my age with a blond bob. She wore a pack with oxygen with tubes plugged into her nose. She walked with a cane. I saw her walk into church earlier. We had smiled at each other. I prayed for her then. Yes, our ailments read to the public loud with my baldness and her cane and oxygen. But, everyone has something. Everyone has something that is worth honoring and lifting up in prayer. We have to be here for each other. I pray for you and feel great joy and thankfulness to do so.
