A Divine Appointment

The journey of my divine appointment in 2021 was a mixture of emotions. It was often difficult mixed with blessings. This was a year of turmoil for most people. We were all trying to figure out how to live in this new world where the words pandemic and COVID are part of a normal conversation. I have been a nurse for thirty-seven years and love my job.  Even though the years 2020 and 2021 were crazy, I feel like every year is crazy in some way.

I spent most of my days in the COVID testing drive-through and the vaccination center. Both areas had healthcare professionals from all over the hospital working to get us through this busy time.  The organization I worked for was also going to implement brand-new software to manage our patient healthcare records. To prepare for the opening day of this event, some departments were doing a test run and asked for volunteers to come. The mammography department was one of the areas asking for volunteers to come and have a test.

The Test women hate to have

I am embarrassed that I have not had a mammography since 2017.  I was a few years behind on this test. Like many people, I thought, I have never had any indication of a bad test. Why would I now? When my friend asked for volunteers for free mammography, I said, “Why not sign me up.” So, just like that, I would have a mammography after three and a half years.

On Sunday after church, I told my husband I was going to have a mammo. He said, “That’s weird, on a Sunday afternoon?” I smiled at him and replied, “Yep, doing my civic duty in a way.  They asked for volunteers, and I stepped up to do it.”  I don’t know any woman that likes to have a mammography, but they needed help.  This seemed like an easy way to Squeeze one in on a Sunday afternoon. No pun intended. So off to the breast center, I went to have a volunteer mammography on a Sunday afternoon.  I went through all the motions that women go through when having this test done.  They are true if you have ever seen any cartoons about this test. It’s just not fun.

The unexpected call

The next day I was back at work and got an unexpected phone call. It was the mammo department, and they said I needed to come back for a diagnostic test. The diagnostic test was more extensive, and I knew something was wrong with how they cared for me. By four 0’clock that afternoon, I had an ultrasound, saw a surgeon, and was facing the stark reality of breast cancer in my right breast with lymph node involvement. The lymph node involvement popped up on these amazing new apps saying, “large.”  I can’t explain how I felt at that moment. It all seemed surreal. Working in healthcare, you think, this is what happens to other people.

After my exam, I asked Dr. Henry Moses, “Are you sure it is cancer?” He replied emphatically, “I am 97% sure,” and gave me a sympathetic nod. Those moments seemed like they were happening to someone else. I started just moving from one appointment to another.

The adventure begins

Before the week was over, I saw an oncologist and had surgery for a port-a-cath. Had a breast biopsy and was prepared by my doctor for chemotherapy.  It was going to be a new way of life. I was told I had one of the most aggressive forms of cancer with lymph-node involvement. My doctor also told me that it was one of the most curable. I knew this would be a journey with some bumps in the road. There were a lot of thoughts that started to swirl around in my head.  Most of them were scary. But God began speaking through His words I read and through precious friends. In the previous two years, I chose a word that was my Word for the year.

  I believe in Jesus, so the word I wanted to think about was Dwell. The word dwell made me think about sitting and resting somewhere comfortable. It made me think about a home surrounded by the people and things I love. It also made me think about finding comfort in my relationship with Christ. I started evaluating my relationship with Christ and asked myself if I leaned into Him.  This was a year of preparation. I did not know what I was being prepared for then.  God rarely reveals what He prepares us for before we experience it.  I am not sure we could handle it that early. I am just like everyone else; Dr. Google would become my new best friend, which is not how God wants us to learn about Him. It is also not a good way to lean into Him.

Learning to dwell

The interesting thing about learning to dwell on God was that it was a year before I found out I had cancer. On February 28, 2021, when the words “You have breast cancer” came to me, I was shocked. I had some tearful moments and wondered what this journey would look like. I had never been here before, so it was all a mystery.  The one thing I wasn’t afraid of.  The past year of learning to dwell in Christ kept coming to me.  I felt like God had prepared me for this moment and would take care of me, no matter what.  The thought of “There are worst things than dying kept coming to my mind.” I noticed people’s struggles and thought, “There are worse things than dying.”

I started down the road of all things related to breast cancer. My hair started falling out. My eyebrows and eyelashes disappeared. I ordered a bunch of wigs and spent some time in the boutique at Prisma Health. I ordered scarves and other things to cover my head!

Within two weeks of getting my porta-Cath, I started on my eight hours of treatment for HERS2-positive Breast Cancer with metastasis to the lymph nodes.  Those words I had studied and listened to before this journey began kept coming to my attention. “You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you because he trusts in You.” Isaiah 26:3. Those words I read about dwelling in Christ became my shield of protection.

The time I spent in the South Carolina Oncology infusion unit was precious, now looking back. I remember feeling so bad for the people there. I wondered about their journey. See, I had a real father that I was leaning into. Jesus is so real to me that I could hear Him say, “This is going to be okay.” I remember one of my friends saying this was not okay, and I kept telling him, “It’s okay.” He would argue with an emphatic no that it wasn’t, but it was. None of it was fun, and there were days I did not want to get out of bed. My body was weak. Chemotherapy is a real devil, but I knew it would be okay. Even if I died, I knew it would be okay. I would not have my years of living robbed from me.

Terrible things happen

It is great if you have never read the story of Joseph and his brothers.  I love that throughout this story, terrible things happen to Joseph. Yet in the end, Joseph can look at his brothers and say, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to bring about this present result, to keep many people alive.”  My journey may not have saved anyone, but it brought about something in me.  It changed the way I looked at life. I still do not like to say the word Cancer. I hate it.

Cancer is not fun, don’t get me wrong

The journey had many difficult days, but many more days were amazing.  I have friends that I had become my sisters and brothers. Their thoughtfulness and love were uplifting. God sent people on the days that were the most difficult. There were surprising visits and meals. Sometimes someone dropped flowers or a book. I felt loved and taken care of. My husband and children ministered to me. Simple gifts of hand lotion or a blanket became meaningful because they expressed love from another person.

The people praying for me were like an army against the unseen enemy.  This community of believers ministered to me and my husband.  It was a blessing and outpouring of love. I graduated from high school more than thirty years ago. I can’t tell you exactly how many of my classes reached out to me worldwide, but there was a lot.  That is one of the lovely things about being a military brat; you have friends worldwide. That is the gift of belonging to a community of believers.  There is family to pray for you everywhere you go and be there during your struggles.

Never let fear become the emotion that drives your life. I wrote about getting past being afraid a few years ago. Remember, fear is not of God, and you can get past fear. Prayer for yourself and prayer from others can move you to a place of peace.

What Satan meant for evil, God intended for good.  This journey changed me forever. It changed the way I look at life.  It changed the way I see the world.  There are so many sweet things given to us to enjoy every day that I took for granted.  The scripture says, “The peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds.” Philippians 4: 6-7.  God says He will protect us. He will protect us from ourselves because our minds can be our worst enemies.

There are some things cancers can take from you. For me, most of them are physical. My hair disappeared. My physical strength waned, and food did not taste the same. There are far more things that cancer can not take from you. Cancer does not have to take your joy. Cancer does not have to take the pleasure of birds, flowers, a blue sky, grandchildren, new life, family, the quiet, music, and friends.  I do not want to take so many gifts given to us for granted.

The Gift of Knowing Jesus

The most precious gift given to me is Jesus. The gift of knowing that I will sit at His feet one day. Knowing that I have accepted His gift and that there are worst things than dying. My grandson recently asked me, “What do we need to be saved from?”.  I shared this question with another Christian, and she said, “Everything.’  We need a savior. I know that I do. This journey would not have been a time of peace without the hope of Jesus. He was my rock and my fortress through the whole process.

I am cancer free now. It seems so odd to say that.  I am officially a survivor.  All because I volunteered one day for a free mammogram and thought I was helping someone else. Now that is a divine appointment.  I love you.  I mean that because Jesus loved us first. 

Life Lived Honestly.

                                                                                              Cancer free in 2022,   Janet Tanner