The Silver Lining

The sweet Physician’s Assistant from the Hills Breast Center called me around 3pm on a Wednesday afternoon as I was enjoying the fresh spring air on my back patio.  From the initial tone of her voice, I was certain this was not going to be the good news I desired.  “I’m so sorry, but your biopsy was positive for Ductal Carcinoma in Situ.”  That was a very unfamiliar medical term, so what do I have?

For a week, I wasn’t sure if this was cancer or some precursor to cancer.  In fact, I would not even say the word, cancer, and much less breast cancer.  That terminology just did not fit in with my life, with me. This made no sense. Two days later, I’m laying face down on an MRI table.  Several times I am moved in and out of the imaging machine. When I completed the paper work at check in, I asked David what did I check for why I was there. He pointed to “breast cancer diagnosis.”  I shook my head again. Is that me?

Five days later, I registered at the desk at MD Anderson Cancer Center for my appointment with a surgeon. I looked around and thought, “I don’t belong here. Why am I here?”    Within the hour, I heard that yes I do have cancer, but it is “non-invasive.”  However, due to my high grade DCIS and the MRI, I am in a high-risk category for it to spread and become invasive. The doctor recommended a double mastectomy.

I could hardly speak.  My mind was spinning and the room swayed.  I looked at my husband with teary eyes pleading, “Help me.”   How could this be happening to me?  I needed more time, more verification.  Before you take my breasts, prove to me that’s what I really need to fight this alien that has invaded my cells. Some would ask, “Why go to the extra trouble of more biopsies? Don’t you hear what they are saying?”  Pause, please.  In one week, I’d gone from a healthy 57-year-old woman full of dreams and plans to a woman with breast cancer. What do you do with that knowledge?

That night I cried for hours and pleaded, “Oh Father, please no. Do not let this be true. Please, not this, isn’t there some other way? Heal me, destroy these cells. I know you can.  I need peace, a peace knowing it is the best thing if it must be.”  I prayed , “Holy Spirit, rain down, rain down, Oh, Comforter and Friend, How I need Your touch, Holy Spirit, rain down, rain down.”*

 Four days later, I lay face down again on an MRI machine for a biopsy of each breast.  Four hours later, I’m wrapped like a mummy again and sent home with multiple ice packs and gauze pads.  In three days, I will get the verdict and know what path God is showing me.

A remarkable thing has happened in my mind.  Rather than looking at the double mastectomy as a curse, I begin to see that perhaps this is God’s answer for complete healing.  I have prayed for God to “remove” the cancer cells.  Others have prayed for “total” healing.  Sometimes, to get the best, we have to get rid of the worst.  Life, long life is the “best” and cancer surely the “worst” diagnosis that I have faced. 

At the second meeting with the surgeon, my mind was clearer and I had a better understanding of my diagnosis of early stage breast cancer.  The biopsies showed more cancer. The doctor gently said, “We need to remove both breasts.”  I nodded.  Swallowing my pride, I looked at David and then the doctor, “I will have the double mastectomy.”  The surgeon breathed a sigh of relief, “We were hoping you would say that. It truly is best.” I sensed he really cared about me as a woman facing such a difficult choice.

Now that we are in the planning phase, I have met with a plastic surgeon that quipped, “What cup size do you want?”  I smiled, looked from the nurse to the doctor to my husband and said I’d never been asked that before.  My friend had commented, “The silver lining of your breast cancer is you get a tummy tuck and breast lift all in one.” 

Yet, as I have typed these words, I’ve realized that that’s just icing on the cake, a small benefit. The true silver lining is realizing over the past three weeks how much I am loved.   Chill bumps are running down my arms with the comprehension of how the love of my friends, family and husband have encompassed me during these incredibly difficult days. The greatest comfort is the way I have felt loved by God in so many ways – His peace, His comfort, His words. Most of the time His love and compassion are demonstrated through  through my friends. 

So on the outside, the “silver lining” of breast cancer for me may be a better look for a gal in her late fifties. Yet, of far greater importance, the ultimate “silver lining” is of the heart, knowing the deep, deep love and compassion of those who are present to encourage and support me. This alone is making me a better person and better friend.  “A friend loves at all times.”  Proverbs 17:17