The Roller Coaster
I have always loved roller coasters. Ben and our five kids love them too. We are the family who can't wait to ride every roller coaster in every park that we visit! Ben and I started the kids on them as soon as they were tall enough. Many times, one of us had to console them as they cried if they weren't tall enough. Now, there is one roller coaster at Holiday World that I do not like. I believe it is called the Voyage. This wooden roller coaster seems like it is never going to end. It shakes and rattles my head to the point I can hardly stand it. Suddenly, on July 30th, I found myself sitting on a roller coaster, much like the Voyage, only this one had a few added surprise loops and corkscrews.
I had read my radiology report from July 30th. I knew that the only positive thing that I could find on the report was that my lymph nodes looked normal. On Friday, August 3rd, I went to get two biopsies. The first one was performed using an ultrasound to get a sample of the area around the lump. This was actually interesting to watch on the screen and pretty much painfree. The second one was a stereotactic biopsy to test the area of branching calcifications. This one...well, let's just say that it was my least favorite procedure throughout this whole process so far.
The waiting is the hardest part. The days drag by so slowly; all the while the roller coaster is racing down the track. There is one good thing about a roller coaster. You always have an open seat next to you, and there was always someone in that seat next to me. At the time, very few people knew what I was going through, but you know who you are, and I am forever grateful that you rode with me. And when it wasn't one of them, it was always Jesus riding with me, reminding me that I could do this.
I did not get my first call until Tuesday, August 7th at 5:40 pm. You know deep down inside that the doctor is going to say the word malignant when you answer the phone. Even though in your mind you know that it is coming; it still hits you like a tons of bricks. As I walked along the porch, it dropped me to a sitting position. At first, I wasn’t even sure what he was saying, but I knew he wasn’t saying the word benign! When these phone calls come, you have to make yourself focus even when it is the hardest thing to do. The stereotactic biopsy report was complete. It showed that the area with the branching calcifications was DCIS, Ductal Carcinoma in Situ. I just sat there on my porch and waited until my husband got home so I could fall into his arms.
About an hour after the phone call, I went to pick up my 8 year old daughter, Lydia, from my sister-in-law. As we were switching things from one car to the next, I was admiring how cute Twilla had braided Lydia’s hair. It was in three beautiful, perfect French braids that met in the back and were then braided together. I said, “Wow Lydia, I wish I could braid your hair like that.” She looked up at me with her big brown eyes, and as if she knew, she says, “Oh Mom, you can do anything. You just need to believe in yourself!” What an odd thing for her to say, about braids! If she only knew what that meant to me at that moment, and how those words would come back to me over and over throughout this whole process.
The roller coaster whirled on. The next day, August 8th, I received the second phone call with results from my other biopsy of the lump. Again, I found myself buried under a ton of bricks as the doctor explained that the lump was IDC, Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. So now all of my worst fears had come true. I am 41 years old and the mother of 5 kids who need me; and now, I was going to have to tell them and everyone that I loved that I had cancer.
I had read my radiology report from July 30th. I knew that the only positive thing that I could find on the report was that my lymph nodes looked normal. On Friday, August 3rd, I went to get two biopsies. The first one was performed using an ultrasound to get a sample of the area around the lump. This was actually interesting to watch on the screen and pretty much painfree. The second one was a stereotactic biopsy to test the area of branching calcifications. This one...well, let's just say that it was my least favorite procedure throughout this whole process so far.
The waiting is the hardest part. The days drag by so slowly; all the while the roller coaster is racing down the track. There is one good thing about a roller coaster. You always have an open seat next to you, and there was always someone in that seat next to me. At the time, very few people knew what I was going through, but you know who you are, and I am forever grateful that you rode with me. And when it wasn't one of them, it was always Jesus riding with me, reminding me that I could do this.
I did not get my first call until Tuesday, August 7th at 5:40 pm. You know deep down inside that the doctor is going to say the word malignant when you answer the phone. Even though in your mind you know that it is coming; it still hits you like a tons of bricks. As I walked along the porch, it dropped me to a sitting position. At first, I wasn’t even sure what he was saying, but I knew he wasn’t saying the word benign! When these phone calls come, you have to make yourself focus even when it is the hardest thing to do. The stereotactic biopsy report was complete. It showed that the area with the branching calcifications was DCIS, Ductal Carcinoma in Situ. I just sat there on my porch and waited until my husband got home so I could fall into his arms.
About an hour after the phone call, I went to pick up my 8 year old daughter, Lydia, from my sister-in-law. As we were switching things from one car to the next, I was admiring how cute Twilla had braided Lydia’s hair. It was in three beautiful, perfect French braids that met in the back and were then braided together. I said, “Wow Lydia, I wish I could braid your hair like that.” She looked up at me with her big brown eyes, and as if she knew, she says, “Oh Mom, you can do anything. You just need to believe in yourself!” What an odd thing for her to say, about braids! If she only knew what that meant to me at that moment, and how those words would come back to me over and over throughout this whole process.
The roller coaster whirled on. The next day, August 8th, I received the second phone call with results from my other biopsy of the lump. Again, I found myself buried under a ton of bricks as the doctor explained that the lump was IDC, Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. So now all of my worst fears had come true. I am 41 years old and the mother of 5 kids who need me; and now, I was going to have to tell them and everyone that I loved that I had cancer.
Lori,
ReplyDeleteThanks for writing,and for helping me know more about how to pray with/for you.
I've been wrapped up in WSCC people and pieces, but will connect with you next week, in person. Until then, know you're often in my thoughts, daily in my prayers, and always in God's hands.