our trip to cleveland for new years got diverted to chicago at the last minute. one of the couples couldn't make the trip, so we decided to go to them instead. instructing greta (beth's brand-new garmin) to head east instead of southwest was painless. and in no time we found ourselves enjoying the warmth of good friends even as the bitter cold was settling into the area.
long-ago friends don't spend all their time nibbling on memories. they also feast on slow-roasted tales that keep the connection wrapped in towels anticipating the banquet. and we had plenty to talk about. since our days together, each of the 3 families has been rocked by cancer... and amazingly all by melanoma. weird.
as the kaleison approached, i wondered how my own internal struggles would be received... or used... and how theirs would carve new words into my heart.
one friend's story intertwined with her sister's struggle with melanoma. a story eerily similar to mine... but with an ending vastly different. as we swapped journal entries, i couldn't help but appreciate the care i've received from dr. lao.
diagnosed 10 months ago... her most recent scans revealed the melanoma has infiltrated her liver and brain. although they refuse to give up hope... statistically there is little... and they already see the effects of the disease's spread.
of course i'm thankful for my outcome. but i'd be lying if i didn't admit that it reminds me of how quickly things could change for me... and how easily our stories could have been identical.
and so... in spite of time and distance... we found ourselves swimming in the same whirlpool... trying to make sense of it all... fighting the same current... trying to celebrate with one and grieve with the other.
they too had prayed for wisdom regarding medical care, and had asked G*D to direct them to doctors who could help... just like i had done. but although her initial diagnosis was comparable to mine, the judgment of her docs separated her from the options that were available to me.
then in a cruel turn of events... just before her most recent scans, she visited a couple other doctors (mine included) looking for some second opinions and was encouraged to seek treatment options that her mayo docs had always said were not available to her. encouraged, she moved toward those new/old options... but in the process the newer scans revealed the spread... shutting her off from the very treatments that may have helped her if offered to her from the start. the very ones that helped me.
like a nightmare renders a child unable to yell for help... at times like this, the anger overwhelms one's abilty to ask "why?"
pain often silences the questions... at least for awhile.
but deep inside we know there are no answers anyway... or at least not ones we can presently understand.
so... even in my confusion about prayer... i pray for her to know the peace that goes beyond understanding. sometimes that's the only thing that gets us through.
at other times the shared confusion of a friend is what preserves a hint of sanity and offers a faint glimpse of comfort.
one might ask upon reading a post like today's... "am i not thankful for my results?"
of course i am!
faith thanks G*D for good things even in the dark.
but there are times when rejoicing seems inappropriate... or even ungodly. so... maybe my calloused heart is a gift... allowing me to weep with a friend.
if so... may my heart never lose the memory of the thickness that has dulled it during this time.
Randy,
It is truly a slippery slope we find ourselves on...rejoicing and weeping, remembering and fogetting, grateful, yet questioning. I remain amazed by God and His thoughts and His ways...they are not ours to be sure. Praying for your friend's sister.
Janet
Posted by: Janet Hurt | January 03, 2008 at 10:55 PM