Five years ago at about this time, Nate and I were shocked when his cell phone delivered some very disturbing news. It had to do with an invisible enemy that was shortly to become visible: pancreatic cancer throughout his body.
With hindsight being 20/20, we now see how the cancer was present and active throughout the summer, but it wasn’t until the test results from a pre-op physical (for back surgery) that alarm bells began clanging. His liver numbers “were off,” prompting the doctor to order a scan of the liver and pancreas, located next to each other.
Journal words tell the tale: “While we were in the office of a new orthopedic doctor getting a third opinion on Nate’s spine, one of our other doctors called Nate’s cell. ‘The results of your scan indicate a mass on the liver,’ he said, matter-of-factly. ‘But don’t jump to any conclusions. Tissue is tissue, and we won’t know anything conclusive until we do a biopsy.’ The doctor told Nate he’d made an appointment for him and then said, ‘Be sure you keep it.’
A few minutes later as we stood in the hall awaiting the elevator, Nate was trembling from head to toe, his cheeks, his shoulders, his hands, but no wonder. He’d just been hard-hit with the words “mass” and “biopsy,” two words no one wants to hear.
“How’re you feeling?” I asked, enfolding him in a hug.
“It’s OK. We’ll get through it,” he said.
These simple words were meant to prevent jumping to a wrong conclusion, but when our eyes locked, we saw we already had. In the car we listened to an earlier phone message left by the same doctor Nate had just heard from:
“I need to talk to you right away. Here’s my direct number. And if I don’t answer, here’s my pager. And if for some reason that doesn’t work, here’s the number for the girl at the desk, who will come and find me.” We knew we were in a serious mess.
As we drove from Chicago back to Michigan I said, “If they need to do surgery on your liver, I want to give you a chunk of mine. People can do that, you know. And I really mean it.”
Nate’s response was off-subject. “I think I’ve already used up today’s pain meds for my back. It’s going to be a bad night.”
A storm was about to hit, and both of us knew we’d need a place to run and hide. We also needed God to show us how to spot his blessings in the rubble, because at that moment, we couldn’t see a single one.
“My people will live in… undisturbed places of rest. Though hail flattens the forest and the city is leveled completely, how blessed you will be.” (Isaiah 32:18-20)
Praising and Praying with Mary
- Big praise about the new, stronger antibiotics: the feeding tube infection is beginning to heal and feels much better!
- Please pray for tomorrow’s infusion #12, that they’ll be able to find a good vein. Without a port, my veins are suffering. Hoping I won’t have to have a port put in.