The Easter Trilogy - Part I

Part I - Gethsemane

I begin this at the gates of my own Gethsemane.   Four days ago I got the dreaded call after a mammogram screening.

The doctor saw something.  We need you to come back for more pictures and possibly an ultrasound. 

Adrenaline and blood flood to my feet and I am quickly in panic mode.   Consulting Dr. Google, I find blogs, forums and articles aplenty on the dreaded “call-back mammogram.”  Evidently this is very common; statistics show a 60% chance of a call-back over a course of 10 screenings.  This is my lucky 13^th, so I guess the odds predicted this day would come.  According to the American Cancer Association, 90% of call-backs will result in “go home, everything is fine”.  The other 10% will go on for a definitive biopsy and 80% of those biopsies will be benign.  The stats rattle easily off the keyboard at this moment because after four days they are ingrained in my neuro pathways.  The odds are very good that this is just a quick blip on my way to old age.    And still my brain keeps returning to…

What if I am among the unlucky 2%...

which leads to...

Next Google search - types of cancers, stages of cancer and treatments.   And I wonder how treatment will affect my life.  I look for a silver lining.

Heck, I’ll just tell them to lop off both, get that C cup build-up I’ve always wanted and have United Healthcare pay for it.  Lemons from lemonade.  

But that also passes with the hours and I alternate from repeating the stats silently to whispering to my God just how frightened I am.

I could crawl up in my bed and pull the covers over me until the morning comes if I thought that will help but it won’t.  So I go through the motions, try to remember to eat something, act normal in front of my daughter and immerse myself in being a mother.  We spent yesterday shopping for a dress for her honor society induction.   It was holy.  The funny thing about these moments (and it’s not my first) is how quickly everything falls into perspective.  How the little annoyances mean nothing and a smile from my husband or a kiss from my dog mean the world.

Some moments I have this peace that I can handle whatever comes and other moments are just sheer terror of what I stand to lose emotionally and physically…my peace of mind, my hope, my boobs, my life…  

OK Lord, what have you planned here?  Will I be able to walk through what you call me to do?  Will I be this faith-filled Christian when I see a possible cross looming ahead?   Or will I pretend I don’t know you and feel abandoned?  And if I am healthy, what am I to learn from this?  

I try to leave it at His feet, put this keyboard aside and wait for the morning.