Catching Up

I think I lost this week somewhere in the shuffle of life. It has been a week of ups and downs - highs and lows. All in all, things are good. Life is good.

We spent the latter half of last week and the weekend in NC having Christmas with my family. It was so much fun. The babies are getting bigger, moving around, noticing each other. It was a quick trip, but well worth the travel time!

Monday one of those not so good days. One I doubt I will forget for a long time - probably ever. Monday morning I found a lump in my breast. Every woman's nightmare. Well, at least my nightmare, I can only assume other women think about it from time to time. Thankfully, I have an amazing ob/gyn and she worked me as soon as I called her. "I heard it in your voice." she said.

Stan went with me to the doctor and she confirmed that there was something there. She went on to assure me that all the signs pointed to it being benign. It moves, it is rubbery, it hurts. All good things when it comes to stuff like this. She advised that we do some further testing to make sure, but her last words to me as I left the office are words I will also always remember. "We are not going to panic about this. We are going to pray. It is Advent, Jesus is here."

He is indeed.

Tuesday, I tried to put it out of my mind and get on with the day, but it was pretty hard to do, knowing my tests were the next morning. The kids and I went to the movies (and I have another entire blog post about that, coming up). Stan came home at lunch to check on me. He was super sweet through the entire thing. Praying for me, holding my hand, asking me to tell him what I was thinking about.

Wednesday, the big day! I went to the hospital bright and early for a MRI and ultra sound. The process of the MRI had me almost as freaked out as the reason I was having it (not quite, but almost). Anyway, I will spare you the details, but suffice it to say that if you have never had one, the thought is a whole lot worse than the actual procedure. I think I could have fallen asleep, but the tech, who was really very kind and caring, kept asking me if I was ok. I was afraid not to answer him, because I certainly did not want him to pull me out and have to start all over. The worst part was the noise, it is quite loud in there. I recited Scripture to myself, sang some of Patrick's memorization CDs (not out loud), and prayed a lot. The time actually went by pretty quickly.

After the MRI, I had the ultra sound. The tech who did that was really very sweet and when she was done taking pictures of the spot, she went out and to get the doctor. He came in and read the report right there. I was very surprised and so incredibly thankful that I would not have to wait days and days to hear something.

The radiologist explained that I have a cluster of fluid filled cysts. They are very common, and many women have them. Sometimes they go away, reabsorbed into the breast tissue, and sometimes they stay there. His recommendation was a follow up ultra sound in six months to see if there is any change. He kept reiterating that he was 99% sure there was nothing to worry about. In my experience with doctors, 99% is about as positive an answer as you are going to get. They do have lawsuits to think about, you know!

I do know from my own research over the years, that though common, these fibrous cysts are not normal and are caused by hormone imbalance. I thought I had my own hormones under better control, but apparently, I need to work on them a little more.

However, I was beyond thrilled and so, so thankful for the news. God is so good to me. Far above and beyond what I deserve. He is good regardless of what the outcome of my tests had been, but still, I am thankful.

Thursday and Friday I was pretty much coming down from my "high." My emotions ran the gamut for three days. I would alternate between what my head knew to be true, going over the facts and trying to reassure myself, then I would allow my emotions to run away with me and I would sob over the possibility of not seeing my children grow up or of my baby not remembering who I am. Then, I would dig deep into my soul and remember that my God has a plan. That He appointed all of my days before I was born. He knows the outcome of this situation and every other one I will face in my life - however long or short that will be. I desperately tried to stay focused on Him during those three days. It was hard. It is still hard. I don't like the fact that there is something growing in my body that is not supposed to be there. I don't like the fact that I can not make it go away or prevent something else from coming up. I don't like the fact that I am not in control.

I think that I needed this lesson, though, and maybe that is why God has allowed it. I need to remember that I am not in control of my own life or health. I know that sometimes I get too caught up in what we eat or the supplements we take that are supposed to keep us healthy. I have said it before, but it bears repeating (to myself mostly) - nothing I do or do not do, eat or do not eat, and no amount of vitamins will keep me healthy apart from the will of God. Ultimately, He is the Jehovah Rapha, my healer. He is the great I AM. The only One who sustains life.

I know this is true and I am truly thankful for the reminder. During this season of Advent, as we prepare our hearts to celebrate the arrival of the Messiah and as we anticipate His return to earth, my prayer is that I will live each and every day as if it could be my last. Being kinder to my husband and children. Loving others the way Christ loves me. Remembering that this life is only temporary. Eternity is closer than we think.