August 7 has come and gone, and I am resting at home. When the doctor said I would need to take it easy for a while, she wasn't kidding! I am 8 days out, and still unable to drive a car, load the washing machine, or pick up Baby. Each day is a little bit easier, and full recovery is in sight.
Or was. After I had surgery last Tuesday, the doctor made her rounds to my room on Thursday morning. My mom was with me at the time (she and Hubby were taking turns sitting with me and staying with the kids), and we heard only 6 words: "I have bad news. It's cancer."
It was like watching a movie in slow motion--I remember thinking that surely the lab had mixed up results (similar to how the nurse had mixed up room numbers the day before and had tried to deliver a newborn baby to me for nursing!!!). Now, nearly a week later, I still feel like that: this MUST be someone else's life.
I saw a gynecologic oncologist this morning. He is listed on D Magazine's top gyn-onc list and comes highly recommended by my own doctor. We liked him fine, but he sure wasn't the down-home, how're-the-kids-doing, come-by-and-say-hi type we are used to! He had received and reviewed the final pathology report from last week's surgery. In discussing my "case," which by the way, seems to be very interesting to the local medical community, he admitted that it's not at all black and white. The cancer seems to be "middle of the road"--not the worst type, not the best. The pathology showed the tumor had spread to my bladder, but they don't know how aggressive or to what degree. The only way to find that out is through another surgery, which will take place 2 weeks from now (just DAYS after Goliath starts kindergarten). After the operation he will know exactly what is going on and how best to treat it.
If there was ever a time I could identify with Job, it is now! I absolutely can not wrap my mind around what God could possibly be thinking in allowing me to have cancer. I am comforted in knowing that "Just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts" (Isaiah 55:9). It is so hard not to worry, though--especially about the precious boys God gave me to raise. What I want most in these next few weeks is normalcy. The ability to run my household, play with my kids, and do all the other things that make my life what it is. I do NOT--WILL NOT--want to be defined by this sickness or let it change the kind of wife or mother I desire to be.
As I travel farther down this road, I will do my best to keep up with blogging with the hopes that my journey will be helpful to someone else. In the meantime, thanks for reading and for praying.