My son, give attention to my words;
Incline your ear to my sayings.
Do not let them depart from your sight;
Keep them in the midst of your heart.
For they are life to those who find them;
And health to all their whole body.
Proverbs 4:20-22
In one earth-shattering moment, one phone call pierced the stillness of our household and rocked the foundations of everything we held dear. It was as if someone released 25,000 ping-pong balls from the ceiling, each representing a horrible scary thought and they bounced around us in uncontrollable malaise. This is how our cancer journey began.
Like every person who has been diagnosed with cancer, the date and time of “the call” is etched into your mind forever. The date is not of particular importance but, we have to start somewhere and for us, it was November 8th.
It was a quiet afternoon and we just got back from running errands. By happenstance (as if anything occurs by happenstance) all our kids were engaged outside the home with friends, shopping or at their jobs. Two busy parents, alone in our home with the sound of silence all around. It was glorious. We almost didn’t answer the phone for fear it might be one of the kids wanting to come home too soon.
It was a Saturday like all others except I was supposed to be fishing with my buddy Larry. We go only twice a year together and we had planned this weekend to be our “semi-annual Lazy-boy fishing” outing. We call it that because at the crack of 10:00 a.m. we are usually on the water.
Anyone who knows anything about fishing knows that you have to be out there on the water before the sun comes up if you want to do any good. Larry and I however, take a different tact. We stay up late around the campfire sipping a few brews, telling stories and laughing. We get up, have breakfast and dawdle around a bit then, we go fishing. We hardly ever catch anything, but we have a solution for that. When it’s time to load up, we go and get our supplies at Walmart. We head over to the frozen food section. Larry picks up some Cod and I grab some frozen Salmon. He throws it to me and I do the same to him. We both “catch” fish! If anyone asks…we now have our story.
If a pathology Doc was on the phone, asking her how she felt?…there must be a reason. With in trepidation in her voice, I heard her telling the doctor that she felt fine, had plenty of energy and was experiencing no symptoms of any illness. She wasn’t even tired.
The doctor then zeroed in on a few specific questions. “Have you experienced any unusual bruising or spots on your skin?” “No.” “Any bleeding in your gums or mouth sores?” Again, “No.” “Can you tell me what caused you to have a blood test sent over to our pathology department?” Connie then relayed the chain of unusual events that had been occurring with her health over the last month or so. The doctor on the other end then asked her a seemingly innocent enough question that, to Connie, told the entire story. He said, “Mrs. Cardell….are you alone?” Trembling, with the phone in her hand, she answered, “No, my husband is here.” The doctor then said, “May I speak with him?”
The entire conversation took less than two minutes. But, that was enough. It was enough time to hear the concern in his voice. It was enough time to ask leading questions to indicate something was terribly wrong. It was enough time to have Connie revisit every appointment she had had over the last month to try and imagine any signs of a serious problem. It was enough time to feel her stomach suddenly twist into a painful knot. It was enough time to imagine all the “what ifs” of every kind of possible disease. It was also enough time to see her life flash before her as she handed me the phone.