After discovering a lump on my breast a few weeks ago, I found myself at an imaging center yesterday being pulled, stretched, and flattened in every direction.
Following a thorough 3D mammogram, the technician escorted me into a second waiting room. As I sat there, draped in a one-size-fits-all sterile white robe, waiting to be called back for an ultrasound of my breast, my mind raced.
If indeed this is cancer, how bad is it? If it’s terminal, what must I do to leave The Boyfriend in good shape? Who will stand in the gap and pray daily for my family when I am gone? When I see Joseph, will he be 17? Have I been a faithful servant?
Finally, a hefty blonde nurse, who sounded as though she’d been smoking four packs a day since birth, summoned me back for the ultrasound. The room was dark and cold — the machine’s noises were as loud and disturbing.
Perhaps it was a coping mechanism, but silly things bounced around my brain as I lay half-naked on an exam table, my breast smeared with ultrasound gel, all warm and slimy.
Thank God restaurants are near our home because The Boyfriend can’t cook worth a hoot. I will not be amused if my men put a vacuum, spreadsheet, or organizing containers in the casket with me. And they better not have an open casket — I’m not a people person!
When she finished the ultrasound, the technician left me alone while she marched the images to the doctor. Peace enveloped me.
The diagnosis doesn’t matter because I have victory in Jesus. Since God is for me, not even death can be against me. I may be afflicted, but I will not be crushed.
The technician walked into the waiting room. “Mrs. Ramsey, the doctor does not need to see you. The lump is nothing but a swollen lymph node. It is not breast cancer.”
I don’t remember the drive home. I only remember thanking God for reminding me again that I have victory in Jesus no matter what life hurls at me.
Friends, I want that for you too.
p.s.
Last night, I prayed hard and heavy for those of you battling cancer!