Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Through The Wardrobe

Remember that part in Chronicles of Narnia when Lucy suddenly found herself in another world by simply walking through the Wardrobe belonging to her Uncle? That's sort of how I felt yesterday when I walked through the sliding doors of Oncology-except time slowed. And, just to be clear, I don't have any sign of cancer, it just so happens that I was referred to Oncology for Hematology. My little worries were left behind and I got a teensy little reminder of how blessed I am.

My morning, as usual, included getting myself showered and ready to include my "face" and the actual ironing of my clothes, dragging four kiddies out of bed, getting two ready for school ie "doing" hair, brushing teeth, feeding bellies, sending fish oil down the little hatches which was followed by subtle (probably faked) gags, and signing off homework assignments that I should have done the night before, but such is life. Normally I would just stick the littlest two sleepy heads in their car seat "as is" but I needed to get them ready and lectured for their stay at my friend's house. (Little bunny trail..hold on) I wonder if Drs realize what we as Mom's go through to get to their offices...especially the ones who seem to think I quite *enjoy*it! Like I don't quite have enough going on in my life, why not throw in the random Dr visit just for good measure, ya know?
;) So, paperwork, and children with baggage in tow, I headed out- a little nervous by the labs results I was to deliver to the Dr I was referred to.

Kiddie stop number one was made at the school after a quick detour for some caffeine to clear my head. After two little kisses goodbye I was off to my friend's house with short instructions to my friend..."DON'T let Ayden destroy your house" ;) lol okay I didn't really say that...she knows already. Then I scramble with the GPS that doesn't want to tell me where to go because...it's cheap, so I wing it and make it to my appt in plenty of time. And *that* takes me up to the "Wardrobe Effect". I don't know what that means ..it just sounded interesting ;)

Now, I've lost loved ones. I've been to the hospital and seen the sick and dying- and time always seems to stop for me when I am there. Life suddenly reveals itself to be just as fragile as it is. This experience was not unlike that except I didn't know these people and I could see a little clearer without having the fear for a loved one or friend involved. So, I walk through the doors , got checked in and instantly "felt" everyone looking and probably wondering, like I did about them, "I wonder what's wrong with her?", "Is she going to get good news or bad news?"...time seemed to slowwww down even as I found my seat.

I was being referred to the clinic for a previously diagnosed auto-immune disorder called Anti-phospholipid Antibody Syndrome (which may or may not currently be active) and Anemia, but most of the people there were waiting for a 4 hour long chemo treatment. I picked up a magazine for some distraction and happened to pick up one that was covering a young lady's addiction to plastic surgery. I read for a little bit and then looked up to see a man enter the clinic who was so white he almost looked transparent. The man's cap covered his bald head, he wore grey sweats and looked to be in his 50s. I didn't see a wedding ring as he carefully placed his fragile self in the chair across from mine and I suddenly felt lonely for him. I glanced down at the young beautiful face in the magazine marked up for all the "nipping and tucking" she wanted done on her already "perfect" face and became sick to my stomach. Oh, the vanity of life. I was guilty- I hate my nose...does it really stinkin' matter???? I was disgusted with both the girl in the glossy print and myself. I put the magazine down, not having the stomach for it after seeing these people, they are living a reality far different from mine. They don't care what they look like physically, they just want to LIVE, to be HEALTHY, and have a day that's not consumed with thoughts of how to stay alive.

A nurse came out after what seemed an eternity and asked the man across from me how he was doing. The man smiled genuinely and said he was doing great *tears*, he was doing great. The nurse smiled back, that knowing smile that I'm sure she couldn't help, but it made me cringe.

I then looked across the room at a lady who hadit her bag packed with things to pass the time for the lengthy treatment. Her rumpled looking husband balanced a laptop, paperwork, and a phone while his wife busily worked to get some information from the nurses at the desk. I can't even imagine what all goes into getting health-care coverage and referrals etc for cancer patients. I watched as the husband quickly moved his phone call outside...his hair was ruffled from running his hand through it as he talked. My throat clenched. I looked at each one of the handful of people spread around the room and just prayed for them- partly for the selfish reason that it made me feel like I was somehow doing something. Time seemed to drag on though it was only a few minutes since I had entered this seemingly other world.

Finally, the patients to receive chemo, those precious people who could educate me very quickly about my priorities and worries in life, were shuffled out with their pillows and bags of magazines for their morning of treatment- my prayers follow them though I will most likely never see them again.

They were gone and I was left waiting and staring at blood-work that no longer worried me. I silently thanked the Lord for my health and the health of my husband and children and His grace and mercy that is ever-new and flowing for us all. He meets us where we are. My appt went well and while more tests still need to be run, my problems are far from life threatening. I need to make the most of what I have right now and not waste a single day worrying about things I have no control over. My problems are so small, and I'm so thankful that I left eye opening "Narnia" with a refreshed perspective.

7 comments:

Mrs. Julie Fink said...

Hoping that you are feeling okay and that everything will be okay. What a sobering office visit. May God bless and encourage you this week.

Liz said...

Hey friend. I hope the doctors are able to give you some help and get you back to feeling 100% again. I can only imagine how hard it must be to balance sickness with 4 little ones and a busy husband. I will be praying for you. =)

(((Hugs)))

Pam--in Estonia said...

What a blessing to have your eyes opened in that way. I know that sounds a little funny to call it a blessing, but I'm sure the lesson could have been much harder. This was much easier to handle, and very effective.

Lisa said...

Heather
I was so touched by your post. It is so sweet to trust in Jesus! I am so thankful your tests came back OK.Your an amazing person and a wonderful Mom.
Love In Christ
Lisa :)

Mishel said...

My aunt goes through similar chemo treatments every few weeks as she battles cancer. I had the privilege to take a few times when I was in Alabama over the holidays. And you are right...it is very eye-opening. It made my problems seem so small. Here my Aunt and these other dear people are literally fighting for their lives.

I *really* needed to read your post today. Thank you...

(And I read that article also, about the young woman obsessed with plastic surgery. I was so very sad for her after reading it. To be so empty...very sad.)

Love you!!

Steve n Vickie said...

Thanks for the reallity check. We all need that every now and then. Its easy to get caught up in life and forget how difficult it can be for those who aren't blessed with good health.

Cheryl said...

You write so beautifully Heather! I'm glad your doing ok. Keep on writing straight from your heart, it is always so wonderful!
Cheryl