God and Cancer: The Big Reveal
No, I’m not going to answer all mysteries to the universe. Just want to add to my blog about Will my nurse on Friday. As my friend Polly pointed out, the name Will means protector/warrior, and as she said in this morning’s text, “I felt like he was in a sense a protector of you—physically and emotionally.” I forgot to mention he also had a white board in the infusion room that read in big black letters, “God Is In Control.” He said, “I’m going to tell you some things about the PET scan, but first of all pay attention to this board.”
I pondered that message over the weekend.
I have several (godly) friends who have died (of cancer) in the past year and half a dozen friends who are stage 4. For those who get the bad prognosis, does that mean they’re chopped liver and God could cure them but refuses to because he/she is in control? I don’t know how all of that works.
I never want to presume that God cares for me more than others. If I get well it’s not because God heals me necessarily (and not others) but that my disease is heal-able. In over thirty years of my husband’s practice, I’ve listened to too many stories of suffering/dying babies and or children with cancer who are too young for mom to explain they’re throwing up so much because their chemo is affecting them. Horrible stories.
If you want to read a better discussion of good/evil and free will (and such things as tortured children) read The Brothers Karamazov by Dostoevsky (Book V/chapter 4). Dostoevsky was a Christian btw. One long poem in novel called “The Grand Inquisitor” recited by Ivan to novice monk Alyosha is one of the best known in all of literature because it discusses difficult issues like human nature, free will and uncertainty.
In simplest terms, I prefer to believe that God is with everyone who goes through this plague. Our bodies are frail things subject to physics, disease and aging. Today, my brilliant friend Rob Scott from my church said, “the essence of the good news in not that God is in control but that God is with us.” That would have been a wonderful thing for Will to write on his white board.
That said, I’m greatly relieved that today my husband hassled the PET people til they read the scan (jk), which came back negative. And I must admit, I whispered a prayer of gratitude that I can have more time with my family. Oh sure. I still have the 3rd time recurrence on my skin, but snap! I can handle that. The spread to the bones scared the heck out of me—that’s a terrible way to die. I had nightmares all weekend. Saturday night I woke up screaming, “Help” and Dan touched my shoulder to wake me and said, “Are you having bad dreams?” Last night wasn’t as bad, but I still dreamed I was in a car wreck and all kinds of terrors.
But now, gratefully, I’m ready for my third and last A&C on Friday. The treatment would have changed had I been metastatic. It’s been a Hello-kitty kind of week. Punch biopsy on Monday. Cancer returned. Pet scan Friday and I begin to wonder if my cancer has metastasized. Whew. I feel like my head is spinning. I’m feeling stronger although still a little queasy. Bring on that last chemo and then bring on those 5 weeks of radiation OR a clinical trial at Sarah Cannon. I meet with Denise Yardley on July 24 who is supposed to be a triple negative expert.
This morning my daughter sent me a photo of a mama deer and three babies she had spotted in her wooded yard on her way to St. Louis yesterday. Deer triplets are rare, and she felt this was a maternal message that our family will be okay. I’m a mama of three (although with spouses and grands I guess I’m a big mama to more). Unbeknownst to Elizabeth, I had written a poem about seeing three deer last winter in our backyard. My friend Laura read it to our church on June 30. All of this makes me think, “More things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than dreamt of in your philosophy” (Hamlet).
Brush with the Ineffable During Lent
Up early, coffee cup in hand, in need of God
as I pondered my new cancer diagnosis
three deer that looked like the Trinity
glided with long legs through my bare-branched yard
with its one hundred weathered steps to the lake.
With grace, the deer lifted their legs to leap the stairway--
a spectacular sight. Thank you, God, for reminding me
to keep moving despite fear which blocks me.
For native tribes of North America, the deer is a messenger,
an animal of power, a totem representing intuition.
In Buddhism the deer symbolizes harmony, happiness, and peace.
Reflecting on the moment, I lost track of the deer as they wandered off.
“Where are you going?” I asked. “Please come back. I need you.”
But afterward, I even forgave the dog who wakes me too early in winter.