So, it is true. Our sweet Momma has cancer…multiple myeloma…blood cancer…”chronic” cancer. And it’s a thing. A REAL THING. And there’s junk like chemo and a port and treatments and off weeks and side effects and oncologists and all those things you hear other people say. It’s a REAL THING. It’s happening. To her. My momma. To US.
I do not mean to be insensitive to other people, people I love and have prayed for. But, until you are really walking the road, it doesn’t really seem like cancer is a THING. It’s one of those words that you hate to hear, no matter whose name it comes after. You never want it to be said about people you love the least, much less about people you love the most.
And, I guess it’s true about anything. You don’t really know it until you are IN it. Until you are elbow deep. Until the words that are accompanying it are now yours. Are now coming after your momma’s name. And I think even when you hear those words all coming together in a long string of directives from the mouth of someone called an oncologist, it still doesn’t seem like a thing.
We went to the test results appointment with momma…me, my brother, daddy. We went as one unit, as we do, for support. And to make sure if they said THE WORD, we would all be able to hear THE PLAN. And, I’ve always heard, “the more ears the better.” Maybe that’s true, but probably not. In our case, we all heard 4 different things. When we sat down to hash it out, none of us heard the same story. There were things that 2 of us heard and 2 others didn’t. There were times when I blanked out, but I was totally listening the whole time. You just sort of stare and listen and try to get it all and write it down. But, that is impossible. Because he just said your momma has that thing. And, you are just like, uuuhhhh. And that’s about all that runs through your brain.
And when the meeting is over and your are in the hallway trying to figure out how to get to the bathroom and the pharmacy, and the nurse gives you directions…and your brother goes one way while you go the other. Then, you obviously are still like, uuuhhhh.
But when you finally get to the correct hall and you see your Momma walking down the hall, leaning in to your Daddy for support. You think, We can do this. Just lean in. Together. We will all do this.
Thank you for continuing to pray for Momma. And for all of the calls, texts, food, cards, love. It makes getting through this diagnosis and the resulting care so much easier. We’ve never walked this road before, but knowing people are willing to meet us at every turn is comforting, to say the least.
And, we know there is a reason and a purpose for all of this. Because while we are leaning on each other, we are banking on God’s promises. He is faithful, through it all.