Dr. Doom
Our consultation with the medical oncologist was scheduled the next day. I felt so confident after our visit with the surgeon that I figured we would be hearing the same type of report from the oncologist. With Preston, we didn't see his oncologist until long after his surgery was over and he was recovered, and even then the appointment was optimistic. In fact, Preston's oncologist told him that he didn't need to undergo chemo and surveillance was the best option for preventative care. Call me naive, but I really didn't think I had anything to worry about going into our visit with the cancer specialist. I didn't go in with a verse to stand on, I didn't overly pray about the appointment, and I was pretty laxed about guarding my heart from what I was going to hear.
The appointment started off with the same type of information: what type of cancer, how it spreads, how rare it was for someone my age to have it, how genes can play a role, the differences between local and systemic treatment, the various options of treatment available. Now, I'm the type of person who doesn't scare easily with information. I can definitely separate myself from what is being said in order to gain an understanding of the overall picture, and later apply it accordingly. During her overview, I was still really confident and able to be completely objective about everything she was saying....right until she got to her recommendation for my care.
Based on the size of the tumor, and my age, she recommended third generation chemotherapy, hormone therapy, and radiation. She said there were two types of groups of women who have had either positive and negative treatment outcomes, but they had no way of predicting which of the two groups I would fall into. She went on to explain that the type of meds they would be giving me would force my body into an early menopause, and that there was a risk that my body would never recover. She also said that if it were to recover, there's a chance that I would lose fertility and never be able to conceive. She talked about the options of visiting a fertility specialist and freezing eggs and/or embryos if having children was important to us.
It was right about this time that my sense of being objective started to crumble. The information was targeting a soft spot in my defenses...my children. Back when Preston was diagnosed, they warned us his fertility would be affected with the surgery, and I remember my heart dropping whenever the "f" word would be brought up. However, God had given us a promise, and we were confident in that season that the statistics wouldn't apply to us. Now, looking at the scientific veil of the doctor's face, I felt myself caving to fear, and I broke down. It was too much to hear that the risks were even going to come near my children, and I wasn't prepared for that kind of fight, at least not in the moment.
I remembered the surgeon saying that we had time, that there was no rush to hurry into anything. I remembered that I wanted to wait on God, to have the time I needed to make sense of everything, and gain an understanding of what the Word had to say about my situation. So, I mentioned to her the option of waiting on surgery and treatment. She looked puzzled and asked us why would we want to wait. I told her that we had faith in God and how God had healed Preston of cancer a year ago. She looked at us with skepticism, like she was fighting the urge to laugh at us. I actually think its funny that doctors seem to throw a bunch of "could be's," "what if's," and "chance's" at you when they're trying to tell you what may be going on in your body, but once you start talking about God or divine healing, they just try to play it off as "speculation" or a "medical error in the report."
She looked Preston in the eye and told him there was no way to prove that the tumor they were seeing in ultrasound was cancer. Then, she looked at me, and explained that because I am young the amount of estrogen in my body was pretty much fueling the cancer and that if it were to spread, it would be very hard to treat. Being that I first found it in May, it was already in there too long, and it needed to come out. After our fun little chit-chat, she examined me. She had that look that doctors sometimes get when they're looking at you like a specimen they once studied in med school, and you start to wonder if they actually know you're not a cadaver; its around that time when you start to feel even more naked than you really are. She said that I may have inflammatory breast cancer. She mentioned the increased risk of it spreading and discussed the option of doing chemo before surgery to lower the chance of it getting out of control.
Needless to say, I was emotionally and mentally exhausted after that appointment. As we walked out into the lobby, the Holy Spirit said to me, "You are the healed of the Lord." I was pretty numb, so I didn't immediately take hold of what He said. I was dealing with the harsh reality that my fight of faith was going to be much more intense than I was originally prepared for.
Looking back, I can understand Peter's warning in 1 Peter 5:7-9, "Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith." It's easy let our guards down once we get confident, thinking we're out of the thick of it, not realizing that our battle is just beginning, not realizing that the enemy will not relent until we're defeated, until we lose heart, until we cave to fear. That day, I was grieved and overwhelmed by the news. I wasn't ready for it because I hadn't stayed alert, and filled my mind with a greater truth to stand on.
**This blog was written in October 2012, but chronologically happened in September 2012**
The appointment started off with the same type of information: what type of cancer, how it spreads, how rare it was for someone my age to have it, how genes can play a role, the differences between local and systemic treatment, the various options of treatment available. Now, I'm the type of person who doesn't scare easily with information. I can definitely separate myself from what is being said in order to gain an understanding of the overall picture, and later apply it accordingly. During her overview, I was still really confident and able to be completely objective about everything she was saying....right until she got to her recommendation for my care.
Based on the size of the tumor, and my age, she recommended third generation chemotherapy, hormone therapy, and radiation. She said there were two types of groups of women who have had either positive and negative treatment outcomes, but they had no way of predicting which of the two groups I would fall into. She went on to explain that the type of meds they would be giving me would force my body into an early menopause, and that there was a risk that my body would never recover. She also said that if it were to recover, there's a chance that I would lose fertility and never be able to conceive. She talked about the options of visiting a fertility specialist and freezing eggs and/or embryos if having children was important to us.
It was right about this time that my sense of being objective started to crumble. The information was targeting a soft spot in my defenses...my children. Back when Preston was diagnosed, they warned us his fertility would be affected with the surgery, and I remember my heart dropping whenever the "f" word would be brought up. However, God had given us a promise, and we were confident in that season that the statistics wouldn't apply to us. Now, looking at the scientific veil of the doctor's face, I felt myself caving to fear, and I broke down. It was too much to hear that the risks were even going to come near my children, and I wasn't prepared for that kind of fight, at least not in the moment.
I remembered the surgeon saying that we had time, that there was no rush to hurry into anything. I remembered that I wanted to wait on God, to have the time I needed to make sense of everything, and gain an understanding of what the Word had to say about my situation. So, I mentioned to her the option of waiting on surgery and treatment. She looked puzzled and asked us why would we want to wait. I told her that we had faith in God and how God had healed Preston of cancer a year ago. She looked at us with skepticism, like she was fighting the urge to laugh at us. I actually think its funny that doctors seem to throw a bunch of "could be's," "what if's," and "chance's" at you when they're trying to tell you what may be going on in your body, but once you start talking about God or divine healing, they just try to play it off as "speculation" or a "medical error in the report."
She looked Preston in the eye and told him there was no way to prove that the tumor they were seeing in ultrasound was cancer. Then, she looked at me, and explained that because I am young the amount of estrogen in my body was pretty much fueling the cancer and that if it were to spread, it would be very hard to treat. Being that I first found it in May, it was already in there too long, and it needed to come out. After our fun little chit-chat, she examined me. She had that look that doctors sometimes get when they're looking at you like a specimen they once studied in med school, and you start to wonder if they actually know you're not a cadaver; its around that time when you start to feel even more naked than you really are. She said that I may have inflammatory breast cancer. She mentioned the increased risk of it spreading and discussed the option of doing chemo before surgery to lower the chance of it getting out of control.
Needless to say, I was emotionally and mentally exhausted after that appointment. As we walked out into the lobby, the Holy Spirit said to me, "You are the healed of the Lord." I was pretty numb, so I didn't immediately take hold of what He said. I was dealing with the harsh reality that my fight of faith was going to be much more intense than I was originally prepared for.
Looking back, I can understand Peter's warning in 1 Peter 5:7-9, "Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith." It's easy let our guards down once we get confident, thinking we're out of the thick of it, not realizing that our battle is just beginning, not realizing that the enemy will not relent until we're defeated, until we lose heart, until we cave to fear. That day, I was grieved and overwhelmed by the news. I wasn't ready for it because I hadn't stayed alert, and filled my mind with a greater truth to stand on.
**This blog was written in October 2012, but chronologically happened in September 2012**
