There are 3 days left.
We meet with the Radiation Oncologist.
I ask her what are the next steps.
She nods that doctor nod.
Which means; really, we don’t know.
She tells us we need to wait because the chemo and the radiation will continue it’s work.
Then in a few weeks there will be some scans.
But really not until 3 to 5 years can we say that it’s cured.
She then tells us the next 2 weeks after treatments have stopped may be the most difficult.
I stare at her with a blank look and think; how?
These treatments are cumulative.
So their full effect may not be felt until a few days after the treatments have stopped.
The other piece that may be difficult is the interruption in routine.
Again, I stare at her: how?
And this is what she says.
Some people miss coming in and seeing the doctors.
We have been given a scary diagnosis.
And now for almost 9 weeks we have been at the hospital everyday.
We might miss the support and interactions.
It might cause the patient some “blues”.
I think about this.
It’s true.
It’s bizarre.
But it’s true.
I will miss seeing these people.
I will miss spending time with my farmer.
This time has reminded me my marriage is important.
If we can carve out everyday for 9 weeks time to be away from the farm;
then we can make a commitment to once a week spending time together.
It also makes me think about our time spent with the Lord.
Does it affect us if we don’t spend time in the Word?
It should.
Do we long for fellowship with the Lord if we miss our quiet time?
We should.
There should be nothing more important that spending time alone, with God.
Though it won’t change our circumstances.
It will change us.
Ephesians 5:1-2
Therefore be imitators of God [copy Him and follow His example], as well-beloved children [imitate their father].
And walk in love, [esteeming and delighting in one another] as Christ loved us and gave Himself up for us, a [a]slain offering and sacrifice to God [for you, so that it became] a sweet fragrance.
I want to be changed. I want to be like Christ in all I do.
I am far from it. . .
The sin and dirt and grime of this life get in the way.
But that is not an excuse.
It is a challenge.
A challenge to change.
Your doctor was wise in pointing those things out to you…you do miss seeing them. I did with my dad. Tammy, hold on to the closeness you have with your farmer and with God. Those are the nuggets of gold wrapped in the devastation of death.