I Have Cancer

I have been around cancer my whole life.  Granny was the first person I remember having cancer.  She died the summer before I went to 4th grade.  I learned right away that cancer wasn't pretty.  Granny spent a lot of time in bed and she couldn't get better.  I missed the biscuits she would make or the round cookies that fit on my ring finger that she would always buy for me.

Then there was my Aunt Jane.  She was my dad's sister and was like a second mom to me.  She didn't have children of her own, and I was the only grandchild on that side of the family.....so she loved me as her own.  My senior year of high school she got sick and was diagnosed with ovarian cancer.  I watched her fight through surgeries, chemotherapy, medicines, and lots of doctor visits.  I saw her courage the day her hair fell out and she decided to throw clumps of her dark hair outside for the birds to use to make a nest. I witnessed her put aside plans and dreams because she was so hopeful that chemo would help her live.  I sat and held her hand the night that doctors told her there wasn't anything else they could do and didn't expect her to live through the night.  After that I visited her in the care facility and would go get her a hot dog or a milkshake because she thought that sounded good, only to have her not take a bite.  I said goodbye more times than I wish to count.  Jane fought hard.  Jane taught me how to live and how to die.  She deeply impacted my life and my call to ministry,

A few years later, standing in my parent's kitchen, my dad would tell me he had been diagnosed with prostate cancer "and its aggressive."  My Uncle Joe and my cousin Ben both faced that diagnosis.  And then just a few weeks ago I walked into my mom's hospital room.  She was wrapped in a prayer shawl.  Dad told me to sit down that pathology came back from mom's surgery and she has colon cancer.

I have held the hands of numerous parishioners dealing with cancer.  I have prayed with them, cried with them, and visited them.  I will never forget embracing two teenage boys, one under each arm, as they walked out of their mom's hospital room knowing it was their last visit with her on this side of eternity.  I have volunteered for hospice and been an advocate for the amazing work they provide.  I have walked in the Relay for Life and given money to the American Cancer Society. I have bought luminaries in honor or memory of family members.

Cancer has always been part of my life.  I have always known it shows no partiality.  it is nasty.  It is heartbreaking.  It inflicts pain.  It is life changing.  And now I have to pause every time I say, "I have cancer."  Yes, "I have cancer."  Now the story is mine.  I was sitting with my mom at her first chemotherapy appointment when the surgeon called with my biopsy results.  We found cancer and we will need to talk about next steps.

Tomorrow I begin the journey towards treating my cancer.  I have a procedure scheduled to identify the tumor in preparation for surgery on Monday.  After surgery, there will be pathology reports of the mass and lymph nodes, more doctors visits, radiation and hormone therapy for sure.  Oncotypes will determine if chemo is necessary.  Perhaps more scans if the lymph nodes are involved.  For now, it truly sucks to say, "I have cancer."  It is raw.  It brings unanticipated tears to my eyes.  It makes me angry to think that my body has failed me.  It makes me angry to think about how my girl's worlds have been rocked this year because two of the women they love the most now have cancer.  Yes, "I have cancer."

Cancer is now part of my story and yet it is not the only story.  My identity is found in the fact that I am a beloved child of God.  So, while I do have cancer.  I also have a God who walks ahead of me; walks alongside of me; and promises to never allow me to walk alone.  I have cancer AND I have God.