The Twilight Zone

Thursday, 10:45 a.m., the phone rings. Caller ID says, "Private number". I have learned in the last three months that that means a doctor is calling me. The only doctor I am expecting is my oncologist. This is the call I've been waiting for, the call that will determine my life for the next several months. I pick up the phone:

"Hello."

"Dr. Campos here."

"Hi Dr. Campos, how are you?"

"Dr. Allegra says you  need six months of IV chemotherapy."

(the world stops spinning)

"I will email you his letter. Come see me next Tuesday and we'll discuss everything."

And my fate is sealed. Six months of IV treatments. Six more months of focusing on cancer. Six more months of focusing on my physical body. Six more months of fighting fatigue, fighting for "normal", fighting for life.

I hang up the phone and think this is the worse day of my life. OK, maybe that is a little bit of an exaggeration, but it sure feels like it today. I feel a huge weight on my shoulders and I struggle to let it go, struggle to remember the lesson I've learned about not carrying burdens that aren't mine to carry. 

I look back at my journal entries for the past several days, this is what they say:

"Thank you that Dr. Campos is getting a second opinion as far as more chemo goes. Please give these two doctors your divine wisdom about what I'm to do. You're the only one who knows if I need it, if this will recur, and if there are still cancer cells in my body. So please guide their thoughts, show them everything they need to see, and speak through them to me." 

And I let the burden go. God is in control. I choose to trust Him today.

The purpose of further chemotherapy is to kill off any micro-metastases that may have already found their way to my liver or lungs. These cancer cells are so small at this point that they are not visible with any screening method now available, so there is no way to know of their presence. Since my cancer was extremely responsive to the initial treatment, I have a really good chance of knocking out any lingering cancer cells that are looking for a place to call home. Simply put, these six months are to "kick it to the curb"!

So that is the plan going forward. As I process this new information today, Chris & Conrad's song, "Lead Me To The Cross" comes on the radio, and I feel Him here with me.

"Lead me to the cross where Your love poured out.

Bring me to my knees, Lord I lay me down.

Rid me of myself, I belong to You.

Lead me, lead me to Your heart."

I am Yours, Lord, body and soul.