The last time I posted was about the Big C, my 83 year-old mother-in-law's breast cancer, and her strong faith in the midst of stress and uncertainty. On the whole it was a pretty positive post. Her cancer was diagnosed early, caught by a routine mammogram; and if you have to have cancer, it was the "best" kind for a woman to have: hormone driven and not in the lymph nodes. The surgeon had given her a choice. Have a mastectomy with no radiation or chemo (unless it had spread to the lymph nodes) or a lumpectomy followed by a precautionary course of radiation treatments daily for five or six weeks. She chose the lumpectomy and was fortunate that it had not spread.
But still.
The radiation. Simply the idea of having to be somewhere every day for six weeks: getting up at a certain time, dressing for an outing instead of staying at home, eating by a certain time, dealing with whatever the weather might be when you have arthritic joints and an intolerance to cold, being driven twenty-something miles everyday for a two-minute treatment ... it's daunting at that age, at any age. In the month between surgery and that first appointment with the oncologist, while her body recovered, my mother-in-law didn't say much about it, but there must have been many doubts running through her head. My husband and I certainly had them. We did the internet searches, talked to friends with personal experience, did some soul-searching, and sent up a truckload of prayers for guidance.
Yesterday, we met with the oncologist. Oh, MY. After he reviewed her case and gave his recommendation for her, she turned to me and said, "It's all those people praying! It's all those prayers!"
Because, you see, the doctor did not recommend radiation treatments for my mother-in-law. He looked beyond the conventional, almost automatic recommendation that follows a lumpectomy and went right to the heart of THIS case, to the heart of THIS lady, and saw what was important and what was RIGHT for HER. In her case, radiation wasn't the most important treatment. It is PRECAUTIONARY and not as necessary as her WELL-being, not as important as the quality of her life. The stress and anxiety the treatments would cause are not worth the benefits they MIGHT have. And instead, this wise doctor prescribed just a tiny little pill, an estrogen blocker, that she will take daily for the next five years. Further, he explained, the radiation would only target the remaining healthy tissue in the one breast where she had already had surgery, but this "miracle" pill would target healthy tissue in BOTH breasts - a much better prospect - and would help cut her risks for the reoccurrence of a hormone-driven cancer in half. (Conventional treatment for my mother-in-law's type of cancer with no spread typically combines both radiation and the daily pill.)
Let me tell you, my sweet, arthritic mother-in-law practically danced to the car! She was euphoric! Talk about being on CLOUD NINE! At one point, the words "Will you TEXT (so-and-so) to let them know?" actually came out of her very low tech mouth!
At first, sitting there in the doctor's office, my husband and I were practically speechless. We smiled and acted right, but he didn't say much and neither did I. I'm not certain how he felt, but it was almost as if That Doctor stole our thunder!
It was like ... I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like ... did I HEAR him correctly? I mean, I was SO excited. But OH, was I ever surprised! See, we had gone armed with a list of questions; actually printed them out on a yellow pad. Top of the list: how worth it is it to put her through the radiation treatments? How much difference will it make? We were prepared to be relentless with our questions, because we wanted to KNOW. In the end, I suspect, we'd have caved. If the doctor had said, SHE MUST DO THIS, I'm sure we'd have said "okay" in this tiny, little whisper of a voice. BUT we wouldn't have liked it, and we would have dreaded it. But you know, you just have to do what you have to do for your mama.
It hit me, really HIT me, by the time we got to the car. No radiation. Oh, wow. OH, WOW.
No. That should be OH. MY. GOD. Literally. PRAISE GOD from whom all blessings flow! Give credit where the credid is DUE, for God's sake. Why is it that we human units are SO prone to ASK and then so stupidly surprised when we GET? I had prayed for guidance, hadn't I! SOMEtimes I am so slow, I just never quite GET it, it seems! Not true of my mother-in-law. First words out of her mouth: "It's all those people praying! It's all those prayers!"
And it was, of course. A whole family praying. A whole church praying. A whole set of friends praying. And the unshaken faith prayers of one sweet 83 year-old lady faced with the Big C.
So THANK YOU, Lord, for reminding me that You always know what we need and You take care of it, even when we numbly stand on the shaky ground of "I think I have to do it myself;"
and ... for being patient with me yet again, for reminding me one more time ... that all our blessings do, indeed, flow from You.
