It seems like I am writing a saga that just keeps going and going. One that doesn't seem to have an ending and one that I wish I didn't have to write. This journey is much more difficult to put words to than the ones I've written after the fact. I'm sure this one comes across much more vulnerable, but also one that takes awhile to put words to and share.
Dilan and I traveled to Houston at the end of September for a follow up with MD Anderson and to schedule surgery depending on how things looked. As the trip approached I found myself struggling with what to hope and pray for. In the depths of my heart I hoped that it would miraculously all be gone and we wouldn’t have to do anything more than just fly home. Besides selfishly hoping for a miracle, I found myself hoping for a plan as well. But I honestly didn't know if having a plan was going to be better than living in the midst of limbo or if it would be worse. And truth be told, I'm still not sure how I'm feeling about it all.
While we were at MD we met with an Oncology OBGYN and our surgeon from June. Both appointments were as normal as we could hope for when cancer is ravaging my body. They drew blood and performed an ultrasound on my neck, but thankfully no biopsy since things looked stable compared to my last biopsy. There are still cancerous spots showing up in my neck, both in the midline of my neck near my vocal cord and at least one on the right side of my neck. With the ultrasound confirming those were still there, we scheduled surgery for a right neck dissection - March 13th - happy spring break to me!
God has a funny way of showing up. On our trip home we arrived at the airport quite a bit early to avoid any issues. We had plenty of time to people watch, grab some food, and relax from a long few days. We got on the plane after a small hiccup with having to check my bag since there wasn't room on the plane. We found our seats, got buckled, and were ready to rock and roll. Little did we know our best laid l plan was about to halt. As the rest of the passengers were loading, the stewardess came on the intercom and let us know we would be few minutes later than planned because we were waiting on the logbook from maintenance. No problem, we had a little wiggle room with our layover in Dallas. Then 15 minutes later the pilot came on and said we were still waiting and didn't have an estimated takeoff time. Cue anxiety. I started messaging the airline and trying to figure out what our options were if we missed our connection. The conversation ended by them telling me I would miss our flight from Dallas to Manhattan. We were quickly approaching an hour if sitting on the plane waiting on the logbook, and by this point my anxiety was flying better than the plane was…
As we were on the plane waiting, I was semi listening to my podcast playlist to ground me. As we approached an hour of waiting, the podcast called "The Cost of Control" came up next. I think I honestly snickered out loud, you're funny God, I thought. There is every fiber of my being that fights to control situations, in this case I, with no flight training, was trying to control the flight. But what a better reminder that we don't have control than sitting on a plane where you literally have no element of control.
I find myself gathering mountains of anxiety at every turn on this journey. Through counseling and reflection in all my time of waiting, I have found that this anxiety occurs mostly when I don't have control and so I fight for it in many ways. And when you're fighting for control for something that you literally cannot control - it causes anxiety. It's a vicious cycle. And even after lesson after lesson of how little control I have I still fight for it tooth and nail. Recognizing it is a huge step for me, but letting it go is another step I'm not so good at, yet.
All in all, I find myself in the midst of grief and loss, yet celebration and cherishing the moments of joy I have now. I'm not sure how to feel about a lot of things. I'm thankful, yet grieving what I've lost. I'm hopeful, yet skeptical of a positive outcome. I'm happy, yet stuck in the depths of despair and frustration. I know that soon my body and mind will have to fight through healing once again and I am dreading that like nothing else. Living with cancer sounds kind of badass, but also creates a new level of disappointment and frustration.
It's moments like this that remind me that remind me that I can't hold on to many things I wish I could. My plans, although so meticulously planned and thought through stand nothing in comparison to those God has for me. If I could write my own story, you better believe that it would look a lot different. But as much as I've learned these last two years, I don't know if that would be a good thing. I don't know that I would have learned the meaning of rest.
Or the meaning of true joy.
Or the beauty that can come from putting in the work to heal your heart and the realization that the process takes longer than I would like to admit.
Or that control really isn't what life and happiness is all about.
Or the strength that hope can bring - because man, it would have been easy to give up without that. I have hope that one day I will have a life that isn't dictated by a surgery schedule and doctor appointments. I have hope that this season will end, that there are better things on the other side of it all and it's worth fighting through. I have hope that this season will be used for good. Maybe it's for a story to share with others, maybe it's so I can find true, honest joy in the future, maybe I'll never know the reason I am trudging through this season. But even in the lies that feel more like truth, I know in the depths of my heart that God won't fail me in this season. It may not be the life that I had so, so strategically planned, but I have hope that it can be more beautiful and wonderful than I could have ever created on my own. He may not be fulfilling the prayers of miraculous healing, children, or an easy season, but He is fulfilling me in other ways and providing more than I ever could without Him.
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