Miles to go

Man, I love control. I crave it- demand it even. Sometimes I don't even know I'm doing it. I think most Mothers have some level of desire or need to control- just so we don't wake up with one of those pretty white coats on. But there may be some of us who go a smidge too far. I'm one of them. Hi, my name's Angela and I'm a control addict.

Yes, to some degree, when Daddy was sick I learned that control is an illusion. At least as it pertains to our eternal fate. And even now, with my cancer, I find myself wondering what it's all for. The exercise, the healthy diet, the not-smoking. None of it made a damn bit of difference because I couldn't control my destiny when it came to developing cancer anymore than Daddy could. So you'd think that would lighten the grip that this perpetual need to control has on me. It wasn't enough, though. I still found myself panicking over what the girls are going to eat, who is going to drive them around, what if their hair and clothes make them look like rag-a-muffins because I can't dress them, who is going to scrub my toilets, what if the lack of mobility in my arms means I can't wipe my own butt?
Oh dear Lord.

But over the last week, so many people have shown up. I don't mean just verbally. They've brought me lunch (and alcohol), they've cut my hair, they've picked my girls up, done my laundry, forced me to go have a massage and traveled two hours to come to my doctor's visits. Suddenly today, I realized that I was breathing. And not the "into a paper bag" type of breathing. The calm kind. I have no control over my disease, and life or death decisions are being made for me, but I'm (kinda sorta) okay. That's the gift that people have given me- and it's the same one you can give someone when they get sick. You can do something- just one thing- the way they would want it if they were still in control. What an amazing feeling it is to be on the other end of that love. I just hope I don't get too used to it because I'm guessing ya'll are gonna expect me to do my own laundry and drive my own kids around by the time this is all over, right?

Yesterday we got some "good" news. My cancer is Estrogen-receptor positive or ER+/PR+. This is, technically, a good thing. It means that Estrogen causes my cancer to grow, so if I take an estrogen blocker for the next 5-10 years then I have a lower chance of reoccurance. The medicine you take is called Tamoxifen and is difficult for some people to tolerate- it also forces you into menopause. We also learned that my cancer is growing at a rate that causes it to increase in stage every 2-3 months. Wow! Do you know what that would have meant if I would have waited 6 more months to go to the doctor? Do the math. Then make a doctor's appointment. 

As I digested that news, my thoughts went to a healthy 29-year-old mother living with stage 4 metastatic breast cancer, which is essentially incurable. She, like me, went for a regular check-up when her two tumors were discovered- and by that point it had spread to her back and several other locations. No rhyme or reason- no family history. My geneticist said that two things have to happen in your life for cancer to occur. You will probably never know what two things they were. One happens earlier in life, and if the second one occurs, BOOM- hello, tumor. So I sat there thanking God that the odds are so generously in my favor- unlike so many other women. Then the thought occured to me, "is this IT??" Am I going to spend the rest of my life just accepting whatever crappy thing rolls along and begging God just to not make it any worse? Is that how it's supposed to work? I know God is not in the bargaining business, so I realize that any kind of begging is probably a waste of time. So how, then, does God make his decisions? I know it's kind of like asking "where did God  come from?" I'll never be able to answer it. But yesterday I was really miffed that I can no longer be naive and just pray for things like a raise at work or good weather for my yard sale. Those seem like such a waste now that I'm busy praying that my cancer doesn't spread while I wait for surgery.

I experienced some of this during Daddy's illness, though, and while it may sound pessimistic, it's actually been helpful. I don't "hope" for things anymore. When he was first sick, I hoped and hoped and hoped that something would change. It didn't. So I quit hoping and just resigned myself to learning to accept the inevitable. I thought this was "unchristian" of me until I read a life-changing article about how the idea of "having hope" often contributes to cancer patients stress. So now, frankly, "hope" doesn't really cross my mind. Part of me even fears that the more I "hope" it won't happen- the more likely it is that it WILL happen. So I've started asking God to help me deal with whatever He throws my way. And I usually squeeze in, "but if you could stop throwing sucky things at me, that would be AWESOME." Is that wrong? When the bible talks about "faith, hope and love" being the three most important things, am I exhibiting a lack of faith if I don't "hope" for something better? Also, is it wrong to use the word "sucky" when I'm speaking to my Heavenly Father? Just asking.