My healing from surgery has been going well. It is still tender and I have not yet gain full movement of my arm, but with each day it gets better. Christmas brought a welcome distraction and it was nice to try to set the cancer aside for a time. As family began to leave Christmas night and the children happily went off to sleep, a peace filled our home. The quiet allowed me to think.
My thoughts went to cancer, and from cancer to chemo. Chemo is knocking at the door. It is the next big step. I am afraid of chemo. The idea of putting a poison into my body to attack everything, good and bad, is overwhelming. The cancer center is a heavy place. Each chemo patient is there for this same poison that I will be there for. We will subject ourselves to the dose and then walk out, waiting to see which part of our body will be weak and hurt in the days ahead. All with the same hope that the poison will have a more profound affect on the cancer. A hope that the cancer will be weakened, retreat and surrender, or die if possible, never to return.
For now, I could very well be cancer free. All tests and observations concur. I could go on my merry way, healthy and strong. But tests are not 100% and observations are subject to misinterpretation. There could be the tiniest cancer floating somewhere in my body, looking for a new place to attack. And so, for the smallest percentage that the tiniest cancer could possibly be in my body, I will undergo 16 weeks of chemo, 2 or so weeks of radiation, 52 weeks of additional IV, and 5 years of pills. All for something so small we can't see it, or confirm it, but it could take my life.
And so, my thoughts turned from Christmas to chemo, and fear once again settled in my heart. I held on to Jared that night, my tears wetting the fabric of his green shirt, admitting my fears, feeling his love, and knowing we just had to go on.
Today in Sacrament meeting, a young 13 year old spoke on Faith in Jesus Christ. She told and read from the Bible, the story of Jesus walking on the water to meet his disciples and how Peter desired to walk to Him, amidst the storm. Peter did walk on water, he had the faith. But he took his eyes off the Savior and looked to the storm, fear settled into his heart and he began to sink.
29 And he said, Come. And when Peter was come down out of the ship, he walked on the water, to go to Jesus.
30 But when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me.
31 And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and caught him, and said unto him, O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt? (John 14:30-31)
I realized that as I had turned my thoughts from Christmas to chemo, I had turned my thoughts from CHRIST to chemo. That simple thought had allowed fear to settle in and make it's home and I had begun to sink.
The remaining Sacrament meeting talks today were powerful expressions of the characteristics of Christ. It filled me once again with the faith I have always had but set aside for a moment.
Chemo is still there, it is still knocking, but I have chosen to let Christ in and I am once again filled with hope. From Christmas to chemo...my eyes once again are on Christ.