My inspiration for this post came from my dear, longtime blogging friend, Debbie @ Musings by an ND Domer's Mom, who is not only a gifted...
Last week was a very suspenseful time for my family.
Two weeks ago, my mother finished her last round of chemo and then went through a series of scrupulous medical tests to see how the treatment affected her cancer.
I don’t think I ever mentioned to you guys what type of cancer my mother was diagnosed with, but it’s called, small cell lung cancer. It’s a type of cancer that is notorious for traveling quickly and dramatically throughout the body. In my mother case it was only contained within her lungs, but it was ALL OVER her lungs. When she was rushed to the hospital in March, my mother was in hopeless shape.
Therefore, she was scared of hearing the test results and I don’t blame her because I would have been too.
She said it felt as though she was going to hear her death sentence.
I gently suggested to her that if the results were not good, she had every right to tell the doctor not to give her a ‘time limit’ because quite frankly, I don’t believe in time limits. Everyone is uniquely different, so if you give someone a set time then they’re always watching the calendar.
She agreed.
My mother and I talked on the phone every day before her appointment last Thursday, and I assured her that I had a deep knowingness in my heart that the test results were going to be negative.
Somehow I felt that she was going to be okay. And it’s ironic because my brother, Tom, felt the same way.
Over the past months, Tom has been telling me how great our mother looks in spite of all that she’s been through, and that her spirits were high. My mother also told me several times how everyone had been telling her that she didn’t even look sick. In fact, one of her oncology nurses said, “You're a very strong woman; I can see it in your eyes.”
Still, there is always going to be that little nagging thought in the back of your head that questions, “What if?”
On the morning my mother went in for her results, she asked the nurse to inform the doctor before he came into the room, that if the results were not positive, she didn’t want to hear anything about a time limit.
So she, my brother, and a close friend of my mother waited on pins and needles.
As her doctor walked into the room he said, “I was told you don’t want to hear anything about time, hu?”
My mother responded, “Yes, doctor, I would rather not know.”
“Well then, I guess you don’t want to hear the good news. All the test results show there is not a trace of cancer in your lungs, they’re perfectly clear.”
At that point, my mother said she was so glad to have had my brother and her friend in the room because she couldn’t grasp anything the doctor explained about the test results, from being in total shock.
After sharing the results, the doctor told my mother that he was going to monitor her health every three months to see if the cancer returns, just as a precautionary.
My brother called me on his cell phone from the examining room right after they got the news, and after we hung up, I sat on the floor and sobbed.
Later that night, I called my mother and asked, “So…how do you feel?”
She said, “Ronnie...I’m still in shock. I can’t believe it.”
I retorted, “Well…believe it lady, and celebrate!”
Her primary confusion was that she couldn’t believe back in March how she was told she had anywhere from 4-6 months to live and get ready for Hospice, to then being told that everything was clear. She just couldn’t comprehend it.
I mentioned to her, “Do you remember when your doctor told you that there might be a chance of a miracle?”
“Yes.”
“Well…it looks like you got one.”
My mother, brother, and I all realize that with cancer there is always a slight chance it might return. But for now, we’ve decided to live with optimism and embrace this miracle for as long as it’s here.
I would like to conclude this post by saying thank you from my mother and family.
Thank you for all your prayers, encouraging thoughts and love that you’ve shared over these past three months, because you need to know how much it help.
You are prognosis positive that when people come together in loving support…miracles DO happen.
Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Two weeks ago, my mother finished her last round of chemo and then went through a series of scrupulous medical tests to see how the treatment affected her cancer.
I don’t think I ever mentioned to you guys what type of cancer my mother was diagnosed with, but it’s called, small cell lung cancer. It’s a type of cancer that is notorious for traveling quickly and dramatically throughout the body. In my mother case it was only contained within her lungs, but it was ALL OVER her lungs. When she was rushed to the hospital in March, my mother was in hopeless shape.
Therefore, she was scared of hearing the test results and I don’t blame her because I would have been too.
She said it felt as though she was going to hear her death sentence.
I gently suggested to her that if the results were not good, she had every right to tell the doctor not to give her a ‘time limit’ because quite frankly, I don’t believe in time limits. Everyone is uniquely different, so if you give someone a set time then they’re always watching the calendar.
She agreed.
My mother and I talked on the phone every day before her appointment last Thursday, and I assured her that I had a deep knowingness in my heart that the test results were going to be negative.
Somehow I felt that she was going to be okay. And it’s ironic because my brother, Tom, felt the same way.
Over the past months, Tom has been telling me how great our mother looks in spite of all that she’s been through, and that her spirits were high. My mother also told me several times how everyone had been telling her that she didn’t even look sick. In fact, one of her oncology nurses said, “You're a very strong woman; I can see it in your eyes.”
Still, there is always going to be that little nagging thought in the back of your head that questions, “What if?”
On the morning my mother went in for her results, she asked the nurse to inform the doctor before he came into the room, that if the results were not positive, she didn’t want to hear anything about a time limit.
So she, my brother, and a close friend of my mother waited on pins and needles.
As her doctor walked into the room he said, “I was told you don’t want to hear anything about time, hu?”
My mother responded, “Yes, doctor, I would rather not know.”
“Well then, I guess you don’t want to hear the good news. All the test results show there is not a trace of cancer in your lungs, they’re perfectly clear.”
At that point, my mother said she was so glad to have had my brother and her friend in the room because she couldn’t grasp anything the doctor explained about the test results, from being in total shock.
After sharing the results, the doctor told my mother that he was going to monitor her health every three months to see if the cancer returns, just as a precautionary.
My brother called me on his cell phone from the examining room right after they got the news, and after we hung up, I sat on the floor and sobbed.
Later that night, I called my mother and asked, “So…how do you feel?”
She said, “Ronnie...I’m still in shock. I can’t believe it.”
I retorted, “Well…believe it lady, and celebrate!”
Her primary confusion was that she couldn’t believe back in March how she was told she had anywhere from 4-6 months to live and get ready for Hospice, to then being told that everything was clear. She just couldn’t comprehend it.
I mentioned to her, “Do you remember when your doctor told you that there might be a chance of a miracle?”
“Yes.”
“Well…it looks like you got one.”
My mother, brother, and I all realize that with cancer there is always a slight chance it might return. But for now, we’ve decided to live with optimism and embrace this miracle for as long as it’s here.
I would like to conclude this post by saying thank you from my mother and family.
Thank you for all your prayers, encouraging thoughts and love that you’ve shared over these past three months, because you need to know how much it help.
You are prognosis positive that when people come together in loving support…miracles DO happen.
Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Believe!
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