My Big Fat Greek (NOT) Praise!

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.

The Big C

There are no letters in the alphabet that strike fear in the human heart like the letter C.

Cancer. The Big C.

A few weeks ago my sweet 83 year-old mother-in-law had a routine mammogram. It came back unexpectedly "abnormal." Different from last year. So, it had to be checked out. A needle biopsy was performed, and there were cancer cells present. Even the doctor was surprised.

A diagnosis of breast cancer sets you on a certain path. The steps you follow are almost predetermined, but they are bewildering to a lady who at her advanced age does not need even one prescription medication. Not one. Not even the proverbial low dose aspirin. I hadn't appreciated how unusual that was until all the various doctors and nurses made it a big deal when filling out her medical history or looking at her chart.

Even so, there are decisions to make. Oh, for a doctor to just say, DO THIS and EVERYTHING will be OKAY. But no, there are no guarantees, no magic formulas and no 100% win-win situations. There are pros and cons to any of the choices, and nothing is easy. Just easier here and harder there.

In the end, she opted for a lumpectomy to be followed by five weeks of daily radiation. In any case, if cancer was detected in her lymph nodes, chemotherapy would also be recommended.

Yesterday, the doctor told us she came through the surgery with "flying colors." No problems, no complications.  He believes the cancer was caught at a very early stage. And thankfully, there is no cancer in the lymph nodes. She has an excellent prognosis.

My mother-in-law's faith is as strong as a rock. So be it, has been her attitude. "If the Lord is ready for me, I'm ready for the Lord." She may be confused by a myriad of medical details, but she sees the big picture crystal clear.

And that's not such a bad Life example to follow.

A Marvelous Week of Fifty-two

Time for a spring 'beach fix,' my mama says.

Always ready, let's pack the car, is my reply
(Anytime I drive eight hours, there should be a beach where and when I climb out of the car)

Fourth floor balcony views -
Deep, dark blue, medium aqua, translucent green - shades of a paint card
Rolling, swelling waves of salt and foam sliding over white sand.

Bikinis, swim shorts, flirty skirts, terry cloth wraps, trunks in every length
Sun visors, straw hats, flip flops,  sunglasses, beach towels.

UK blue lounge chairs, wide umbrellas rippling in the breeze
Rainbow awnings, sand chairs of every color, kites overhead
Life guard with a clipboard and a jug of water.

Dawn walks in the sand - foggy mist and cold toes
Or rising sun, orange gleaming surf, blinding glare and fishermen.

Shells - scallops, conchs, olives, Scotch Bonnets
Coquinas, auguers, whelks, sand dollars (oh, joy)
Scattered across wet sand.

Seaweed, driftwood, jelly fish bits and pieces, dolphins playing  
Portuguese Man O War, but no sharks or rays this trip.

Familiar faces - old friends seen again and again
Some from home, some local
Strangers - good morning and a smile - seen one day and not again.

The beach, the beach town - familiar and beloved - the same and not the same
Changing tides, shifting sands, stormy skies, bright sunshine.

Return to Home Sweet Home ... as always
The vacation, the visit, all too short
The anticipation of another 'beach fix' already building.


Thankful for the blessings -  God's amazing creation, mothers and daughters, friends 
And traveling mercies to and from.

A marvelous week of fifty-two.