To Every Thing There is a Season

"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven...a time to keep silence, and a time to speak."  Ecc 3:1,7


As I look back over the last whirlwind month, the time I treasure most is the two weeks where DH, the Lord and I sorted out what our priorities were and how we wished to approach the "bend in the road" of our lives.  We came away from that precious time with the following:

*A list of priorities for us individually and as a family.

*A list of TO DOs that must be done before surgery of any sort.

*A treasure trove of information regarding DCIS and treatment methods both medical and natural.

*A brochure to communicate what we are facing and a rough idea of how we wanted to communicate this news and stay connected with friends and family across the country.

*Information on sharing cancer news with children.

*The beginnings of my medical notebook that goes with me to all appointments.

Why did we do this?  Well, we couldn't do much else.  Everything was closed for Thanksgiving, so no matter how concerned we were with my diagnosis, everyone was off for the holiday unless it was an emergency.  Also, when I'm under intense stress, one of my coping mechanisms outside of prayer is to be organized.

So, we laughed, shared stories, played games, ate, enjoyed Harpist's solo at church and just relaxed as best we could.  Every evening we headed to bed early and spent time praying, crying, prioritizing, planning and researching DCIS and our treatment options.  Every morning we were up early, enjoying our quiet time with the Lord and I started writing out what evenutally became our "Flyer" to share.  Precious memories were made, cancer could wait.  We couldn't do anything more until our healthcare providers were back in the office on Monday anyway.  Why scare anyone else, when we knew so little ourselves?  I just couldn't bring myself to tell my parents.  That was the Lord working, as it's not in my nature to remain silent for long.

By Monday, we had our plan laid out, based on what we had been told and our interpretation of the pathology report.  I called K, the nurse navigator, and told her I needed an appointment with Dr. H, the surgical breast oncologist.  (See my page on making decisions.)  While at Dr. H's office later in the week, we learned more information and our ideas about treatment were tossed out.  I felt like I'd been hit by a train twice in 10 days!  One of the handouts I received contained the following quote:

"Breast cancer usually isn't a medical emergency.  It is often a psychological emergency."

 At first, I found the statement blunt, but as I reflected on it, it's usually the truth!  By choosing silence for a time, we processed the psychological emergency with the Lord.  This gave us peace and confidence to know that we would get through what ever was ahead.
We returned home from the doctor's office to a surprise birthday party for me, planned by the children.  They dug out some of my special china for the occasion and managed to get the Christmas tree set up and decorated too.  It's moments like these, I treasure as a Mom!  It makes all the tough days worth it.

After my initial consult with Dr. H, my appointment list grew exponentially, we had to tell the children.  We couldn't hide it any longer.  We chose a morning, when we'd have some down time and all day to process the news together as a family.  We prayed and prepared the best we could. We wanted them to be informed without overwhelming them too much.  God was faithful, He gave me emotional strength that I don't normally possess.  He gave us the ability to explain what was going on simply and without a lot of undo emotion or stress.  The news shook the children, particularly the oldest two.  They all are processing the news and it's impact on their life.  We sense we need to be vigilant observers of their behaviors, expressions and spoken words.  

We wanted to comfort them and encourage them to trust Jesus when they are afraid.  

Telling the children left me emotionally drained.  It was another 10 days, before I had enough emotional energy to begin telling our families and a small prayer group.  It was time, we faced treatment decisions and we needed the prayers and wisdom of others.