Reading back over this made me realize the daily choice to find Joy no matter the circumstance. Some days are easier and some days are harder, but there is always something, someone, or someplace where Joy can be found. Today, choose Joy. Take time to remember all the ways and things that God has done to provide you with unshakeable internal Joy that cannot be taken from you.
There are so many days when joy was and is in some dark, dark corner. My diagnosis was a shock but not altogether unknown. The week before I was diagnosed, I told my sister something was wrong and asked, “what if I have cancer….”. God was preparing me somehow for a journey I never saw coming.
1 month before my diagnosis, I saw a rheumatologist because of my “weird” symptoms and extra fatigue….he plainly told me that it was not rheumatological. Which it wasn’t, but he did no labs….he focused instead in amazement at how difficult my life is and that my feelings were a byproduct of that. No one was hearing me, something was off, and it wasn’t me emotionally not handling the stress in my life. It was not an ongoing pandemic, it was not homeschooling my 4 children, it was not grieving the everyday losses my sweet Hattie won’t experience due to her genetic disorder…something was wrong. God again was preparing my heart.
On May 21,2020, in my home ER – my attending and fellow PA diagnosed me with cancer with tears in their eyes. I looked at them and told them it would be ok. I would be strong and would fight. God held me when I could not hold myself. Due to covid, I had to be alone. I had to tell my husband, my father….on the phone…I had Leukemia (a blood cancer) and would not be coming home. Those initial days were a blur. Floods of comfort came pouring in, but I was numb. Those in the medical field know what it means to flip the switch, to compartmentalize our life so we can bear to take another step forward when we see and feel some of the hardest things. When the grief and heartbreak we have for our patients and their families are too deep to bear. I turned it on quick. I couldn’t allow the heaviness of what I was going through truly sink in. I had to be tough and fight this. If you know me, you know I HATE needles…I soon learned how to mentally break through them because there was soooo much pain. For the first time, I faced death. Jesus was closer than ever. I felt, at times, like death was slowly creeping in. Darkness was there; I could touch it. Real Depression was within my grasp. I went to sleep without a promise of tomorrow; fear was knocking. If God was always good, why was I here in this place….on the most challenging days, the WHY questions were the heavy hitters. Singing my kids to sleep on the phone as I fought back the tears and fears. One day I was there, and the next day I was gone.
Chemo – the paperwork alone is terrifying – a lifesaving poison that would kill off my bad cells in the hope I would grow new healthy ones. 3 weeks in a hospital, hoping and praying. Alone but with a colossal Army praying. Fighting to keep my life and my JOY. I couldn’t even listen to music for a period of time. Music is an outlet that I feel so deeply; listening to it meant I would have to feel…I would have to step into the depth of pain my heart was feeling, and I couldn’t do it. It was like feeling yourself falling but unsure if you would ever stop falling. I couldn’t breathe, let alone sing. My nurses were life when James couldn’t be with me because our kids also needed him. They came in and held me together. My oncology nurses were the glue that kept me from falling completely apart. They were the heart; they were the song. They took the step for me. They laughed and cried with me. During my first biopsy and days when the pain was so much, I barely was conscious there was Chaina – praying over me when I had no words- Singing over me. Bringing joy when I felt sadness. Then there was Tiffany – at night, she would be so quiet I would actually sleep, or on nights when I couldn’t sleep, she laughed with me and comforted me when I was alone. Before I left for MD, she gave me the most beautiful bracelet. I held it through my next round of chemo and missed her at night when there was nothing but noise.
Then there was Ms. Charlotte – she was so soft and gentle – like the hands of Jesus reminding me that it would be ok. I was not alone – there were bigger plans for my life. This was not the end but just the next path.
The day that I received the news that the chemo hadn’t worked, James wasn’t there yet. I was alone. Receiving that news was like a train hitting me. I couldn’t stand up. My Leukemia was aggressive; it would not be easily fought. But then there was Carolla, the nurse that hugged me tight and held me when I couldn’t hold myself. She fought for me. She stood in the gap and helped bring me what I needed most. My family. My world. My reason for fighting. She brought me a cappuccino and ginger snaps on Sunday. She was so gentle and kind. She reminded me of a life outside of the hospital’s 4 walls. I can never thank them enough – they helped me believe I had a chance when I thought nothing was left.
Jesus. He is in all things and works through people when they may not even realize it.
Kaet-7/27/2021