Finally

     Finally!  It feels so good to be writing again.  Life has been crazy lately.  So much has happened that I don't know where to begin.  So, let me tell you the major story.
     About a month and a half ago my mom had some symptoms and wisely got herself to the doctor right away.  Within about three weeks, she had a biopsy, and within six weeks, she had a cystectomy.  Bladder cancer.  I'll go ahead and tell you now that she left the hospital cancer free after that and is healing well.  What I want to share with you is about faith and trust.
     Before we went to the doctor for the confirmation and diagnosis my mom said, "Well, I told God that I want to stay around for 20 more years.  Hopefully, I will. If he decides differently, I'm ready.  Whatever happens, God is in control."  That last sentence is the bedrock of her belief.  God is in control.  Even when you try to say things that will not sound like My Mom Has Cancer. 
     I would say things like: 

• She is having some problems.
• Mom is going to have her bladder removed.
• They thought is was a UTI, but it was a little more involved.

It's only now that I can say those words, "My mom had cancer."  Still it is hard to say, though.  I try not to.  I don't want to admit it.  I want to be in control.  Instead, I learned to wait and wait and wait while I learned to trust God in a new way.
     I hate to wait.  I learned to wait in waiting rooms, hospitals, and at home.  Over the couple of weeks that we were at the hospital, I sat a lot.  There's really not much you can get out and DO at a hospital.  First, there is the waiting area for surgery.  Sitting there in the morning, waiting on them to take my mom, wondering if the doctors and nurses slept well the night before, the process of listening for our name began.  We sat there after they took her to pre-op waiting to be called to go visit with her.  Then we sat there waiting on them to call and tell us surgery was going well. 
     The first surgery wasn't a hard to wait through.  For one thing, it wasn't as long.  For another, we thought it would be relatively minor.  It was.  It wouldn't give us the result we wanted, though.
     The second surgery was long - six hours.  We were in the waiting room all day.  The nurse was so good to call us every hour and report that she was doing well.  Finally we got the call that she was in recovery.  I could tell the doctor was pleased with the result when he came out.  You learn to read their eyes.  After the first surgery, he didn't really make eye contact.  This second time, he actually had a little spring to his step.  It was different.  He thinks he got it all. 
     What wonderful words those are!  Hope springs eternal, and it overflowed from that report.
     As the days passed, waiting for the pathology report haunted the back of my thoughts.  It would take a week or so.  As the time drew closer, I could feel myself falling into a dark, dark place.  Until that one Wednesday when we were finally being dismissed from the hospital and the question came:  "So, do you want to talk pathology?"  I had been sick to my stomach all day.  Fear was gripping me and wouldn't let go.  Somehow I knew today was the day we would know. What would he tell us?
     Margins negative.  Only one lymph node out of 11 had any sign of cancer.  OK.  Finally, he said it.  Those beautiful words that flooded relief into my soul.  "As far as I am concerned, you are cancer free."