Читать книгу Pink Ribbon Stories: A Celebration of Life - Tammy Miller - Страница 12

November 2010 was a life-changing experience when I found out I had inflammatory breast cancer. I began treatments in December after having surgery to install a port for the chemotherapy. It has been heart-warming to receive so many cards and prayers from even strangers who tell my husband and me that they are praying for my recovery every day! From the warm hugs I receive from a lady assistant store manager at the local grocery store to so many asking how I am doing and telling me to let them know if I need anything, I know I am not alone in this fight.

I have received two prayer shawls from a local group and a United Methodist church in Virginia. I know that each stitch was lovingly created with prayer for me. Two weeks ago, I received a beautiful red prayer quilt sent to me from a United Methodist Church in North Carolina. The quilt, when finished by a group of ten women in the church who make them, was placed on the altar during services. As church members prayed for me and my healing, they tied a knot in the quilt. When I look at that beautiful, hand-pieced quilt, I know that prayers went into each knot and each stitch, and I am thankful that God puts it on the hearts of His followers to extend kindness and caring to those who are so greatly in need.

I have known many family members and friends who have had cancer, some of whom survived and some of whom did not. Even that knowledge did not quite prepare me for the reality of what it means to actually be a person who is receiving chemotherapy. I knew it would be challenging, but nothing can quite prepare you for the nausea (which is better for current patients than it was years ago, thanks to drugs administered with the chemo), the weakness, fever, numbness of the fingers, pain in the feet, etc. Even walking down our driveway to the mail box is the limit of what I am able to do some days, when I often walked the 1/8 mile out to the family farm and back four or five times a day without even thinking about it.

I think one of the most distressing side effects for me has been the loss of taste; some of the foods and beverages I loved best now don’t taste good to me. I was an avid Pepsi, Sierra Mist, and grape juice drinker -- now I find the cloying sweetness more than I can handle. I have become addicted instead to water with lemon juice and V-8 juice, because it lacks the sweetness of my former favorite drinks.

As a person who has always loved being around other people, another difficult thing for me has been the isolation of being too ill to go out, many days choosing to stay at home and watch TV or read on the living room couch with my two black Pugs, Roxie and Rambo. They know something is wrong with me, and their noses alert them when I’ve had chemo. Roxie was quite upset when I began losing my hair, and even after several months of seeing me bald, she still stares at me and lets me know she is worried at the change.

I moved one of my computers into the corner of the living room from my basement office, and began a new adventure of connecting with friends and family on Facebook. This was one of the best decisions I made for myself during this battle, as it allowed me to work on short stories for my publishing company without having to leave my “safe haven” in the living room. I can connect with the outside world at any hour day or night, which helps keep me from feeling as isolated as I might otherwise have done.

I decorated for the Christmas season early, realizing that I would not feel up to doing my usual sprucing up of the house after I began treatment. The themed Christmas trees in each room helped brighten the first few months, along with my collection of Christmas village houses displayed in several rooms. Finally, in early March, the long, cold winter urged me to slowly put them away, instead getting out silk flowers to turn my house into Spring.

This has been a good opportunity to stop and think about faith, about healing, about the God who cares so much for each of His children. He is never far from me, and when I feel discouraged and alone, I know I am not, because God will never leave us. I have read many good Christian fiction books over the last few months, getting time to delve into the extensive library I have collected over the past several years. I have also shared some of those books with Amish friends and neighbors who are avid readers.

I am very thankful for the caring and compassion of the physicians, nurses and staff in the Geisinger Group at Scenery Drive. They are patient and kind, helping cancer patients through the most difficult time in their lives. After the first treatment, I was more comfortable, knowing what to expect during the chemotherapy as well as the side effects that follow during the first week or so. Answers to questions were only a phone call or email away.

Cancer is a humbling experience, a growing one, and one that lets you reach deep inside yourself for the real meaning of life and love of family and friends. One learns to not “sweat the small stuff,” and that most of life really is “small stuff” when you compare it to the daily need to survive each moment, each hour, and each day. It teaches you the value of a cheery card, a caring phone call, the assurance of prayers for healing each and every day, even from strangers.

I know God wants the best for me as His child, and I am looking forward to a complete healing from the cancer. I believe God has a lot more for me to do, and I pray that I will use my remaining years wisely. Having gone through this experience, I am more aware of the pain and suffering in the world around me, the discouragement people feel, and the wonderful, uplifting help we can give to others by caring, praying, and sharing with them when they are going through a dark valley of illness, especially cancer.

Thank you, God, for being with me through this challenging time. Thank You for friends, family, my church family, and all those strangers who have been so kind and thoughtful. Thank you for another hour, another day, and another year to share Your love to others around me. Thank you for life, love, and happiness that comes from You even in the midst of the hardest times. We can make it -- because of Your love -- and knowing that our lives are really in Your hands, today and always. You turn our tears of discouragement, fear, pain and sorrow into joy, knowing that we are always in Your care.

Barbara lives in Madisonburg, PA, with her husband John and daughter Michelle. She is retired from Penn State, and writes regularly for Union Gospel Press of Cleveland, OH. You can reach her by email at: barbya1@yahoo.com.

A Sprinkle of FUN from the Author…

Martha’s Way or My Way…

Martha’s Way: Don’t throw out all that leftover wine. Freeze it into ice cubes for future use in casseroles and sauces.

My Way: What leftover wine?