The Waiting Game

What are some of our greatest fears as a woman? 

One of these is the mammogram technician turning you over to the ultrasound technician to check a few areas that don’t look quite right.  You feel the ultrasound wand moving over your breasts and wish you knew how to read the screen she is watching. After several minutes of recording measurements, the technician says, “Please wait here while I speak to the radiologist.”  I wait on that narrow table in a cold room and wonder, "What's next?"   

I lay there and tried to recall the number of times in the past five years I've been on that table and waited for the verdict.  My expectations are a hopeful, "You can go now, please come back in six months” or if I’m lucky it’ll be a year. Something felt different as I closed my eyes and tried to relax on a table not meant for rest.  The doctor entered and the bells in my head rang an alarm. "I'd like for you to come back for a biopsy."  I silently groaned and asked, “Okay, when?”  “Soon, we don’t want to wait long."

Six days later I sat on something similar to an adult high chair with a padded stiff back at a ninety degree angle. The familiar mammogram machine looked ominous.  I tried desperately to think of anything except what was happening at the moment. “Hold your breath,” is the directive and I clench my teeth and count backwards from 100.

This was a Biopsy Mammogram. I should have received more forewarning. The pain was palpable even with anesthesia. I feel the scalpel slice into my skin.  Tears flowed no matter how hard I gritted my teeth. One sweet technician held my hand and tried to distract me with small talk about the beach and sunsets. Nausea swept over me and I just wanted it to end. 

More looking at the screen shots and more waiting until the all-clear signal is given and the skin is super glued together. My chest is wrapped like a mummy stuffed with ice packs. A pat on the back and off to dress for the ride home where the waiting continues.

 I've never been good at waiting. As a kid I was the one that went looking for the hidden Christmas presents cause I just couldn't wait.  I've never been one for surprises either; tell me now I'd insist. I want to know what to expect so I can create a plan of escape or attack. Sometimes we must wait.  I’ve done a lot of “waiting” these past few weeks, in waiting rooms, for test results, biopsy results, doctor appointments. With a cancer diagnosis or any unknown, no one wants to wait.

 The author of the book of Isaiah taught this truth, "But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint."  Last fall God told me to slow down, release responsibilities and wait.  Several times as I sat to talk to the Father, I would ask, “Why do you want me to wait?”   His reply was clear and simple,  "Wait." 

 After several months, I stopped asking why and asked what? What do you have for me to do? God replied, “Trust Me.”  My style is to plan and plan well in advance, so my mind churned with all kinds of possibilities - my kids or husband might need me or something would happen with my dad or maybe there’s this big project for me.   I never imagined I needed to wait and trust for my own sake.  I am humbled how well my Father loves me.

 So today, two weeks past the cancer diagnosis, bi-lateral breast MRI followed by two additional MRI biopsies and another cancer cell lurking in the shadows, my questions have no where to go. I do wonder how much more waiting is in store over the weeks ahead. For months while I waited, I have been drinking bountifully from the waters of the Living Word and feasting on the Bread of heaven. Habakkuk prayed, “Yet, I will be joyful in the God of my Salvation. The Sovereign Lord is my strength! He will make me as surefooted as a deer and bring me safely over the mountains.” (Habakkuk 3:19)   God has allowed my waiting to be turned into strength, God’s strength, that can fuel me to run“surefooted” through the valleys. I must trust God to provide my “eagle’s wings” to make it over the mountains. Like Habakkuk who lived through extreme difficulty, may I also have the courage to  “be joyful in the God of my Salvation.”