Walking along this hall
Waiting in a chair in this room
This was where I was yesterday before I was called back to unroll my sleeve, feel a slight poke, and fill four vials with my blood. I laughed with the technician that she needed to only draw out healthy blood cells. She pointed to two of the vials, "We are shooting for good numbers in here, not too high and not too low." Then she pointed to the other two. "These we want none." She saw my confused look and replied, "These are the tumor markers. We want none in here." We laughed together, and a small part of me wished it were that easy. As I walked out, I prayed that God would be in control in the numbers. Of course, I knew He always is, but it helps me to pray, to be reminded that He knows and He cares.
On the other side of these chairs sat a lady in a hat, covering her baldness. She was working away on her computer, trying to get things done and not letting cancer take more from her day than was necessary. Another woman wore a short auburn wig, and I thought, she is beautiful. She smiled at me as she walked by. Was she wondering if I was at the beginning or the end of my cancer treatment? Or was it just a smile of recognition of each of our strengths, to look at the wildcard cancer brought us, and say, we may be scared, we may be tired, we may not look the same as we once did, we carry scars and fears, but we are moving on with grace, because that's who we are. Not a cancer victim. Not even a cancer survivor. But a woman full of charm and dignity. I think of the Proverbs 31 woman when I consider that brief moment: Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. (Proverbs 31:30)
It's amazing what you see in a Cancer Care Center when you care to look.
I try to take time to look at my world whenever I can. Six months seemed to pass in a blur, yet each day was filled with moments I saw. Christmas lights reflecting off the snow on Christmas Eve. My kids' laughter as they recall a ski adventure. Tired eyes on faces as they hunch over their peanut butter toasts on a dark winter's morning before school. Congratulations and wonder over a kid who is knocking math out of the park this year. Another kid who is juggling so many balls but yet takes time at dinner to thank me for the food. A kid who is eager to strike out on her own, but yet still comes to me to share in a concern or a victory. Sitting across a candlelit table from my husband as we laugh together, amazed at the things God has done. Standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon, surrounded by my family, looking in awe at the wonders of God's creation. Remembering some fears, heartache, concern, bad choices, reactions and hurt but recognizing that God has covered it all.
Six months. Next week I'll come back into this clinic, sit in a similar chair, see a set of different faces bravely standing against a scary diagnosis, and meet my new oncologist. Hopefully, I will also hear everything looks good and we'll see you in six months. And I'll write down the date, and wonder of all the things that will fill my next 180 days.
