"New focal pulmonary nodule" on my lower right lung? Ugh.
“New focal pulmonary nodule in the right lower lobe. Recommend a chest CT with IV contrast to further evaluate.”
It’s been 6 months since my last imaging to check for cancer, and it is that time of the year again. Time for an MRI to get a little look-see at Rachel Dye’s insides.
I did not know Vancouver Clinic did MRI’s on the weekend but they do, and they scheduled me for this last Sunday, 5/15 at 230pm. My last bloodwork that indicated 0 circulating cancer cells was done back in February, so all should be well, right?!
Typically, I have some “scanxiety” on scan days, if you have ever experienced a doctor telling you something about your own body that you didn’t know and felt a little blindsided/betrayed by your own flesh and blood (quite literally) you know this feeling. “What will they find when they get a closer look?”
I have never had a scan on a Sunday before and it was a unique experience getting to be in church singing hymns with my family of believers
On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross
The emblem of suffering and shame
And I love that old cross where the dearest and best
For a world of lost sinners was slain
So I'll cherish the old rugged cross
Till my trophies at last I lay down
I will cling to the old rugged cross
And exchange it some day for a crown
Singing this hymn and I started crying, not even sure why. Our family was sitting up in the balcony at church, so I went downstairs to get some tissues and try and collect myself.
The tears would not stop coming so I headed out to our car for some privacy. I felt like a rookie, this was for sure not my first MRI, what was wrong with me?! It was not until I was talking with Jamison later that day that I realized how and what I was feeling. It is a feeling of being humbled mixed with acceptance that comes over me when we get close to scan days. Because my circumstances, for the most part, are outside of my control. I am humbled if the results come back clear and the cancer’s still gone or I am humbled if it’s back and God has more sorrow and suffering for me. Either way I am humbled under God’s mighty hand (1 Peter 5:6-7).
And I feel deep acceptance about this, a submission in my soul with my life. I feel like I am walking a tight rope of acceptance with the pitfall of distrust on one side and the illusion of control on the other. Falling to either side means to fall out of touch with reality of God’s complete and total control in every detail in my life.
To the old rugged cross I will ever be true
It's shame and reproach gladly bear
Then he'll call me some day to my home far away
Where his glory forever I'll share
I know that Christ gladly bore my shame and reproach on that old rugged cross, so I am filled with joy to be living here as His child with too many blessings to count. At the same time, I know that “he’ll call me some day to my home for away... where his glory forever I’ll share” and this is so exciting!
One foot on earth and one foot in eternity. It’s the latter that sustains me.
Is it possible that the tears wouldn’t stop coming Sunday morning singing these words because the tight rope of acceptance feels a lot like the tight rope we walk here on earth? Life is easy to love when it’s all we’ve known, but I feel the joy and anticipation for my home far away becoming more of a reality like paul says “to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.” I feel this pull, in wanting to be with Christ, yet I want to be with my family on earth.
The MRI results...
“New focal pulmonary nodule in the right lower lobe. Recommend a chest CT with IV contrast to further evaluate.”
Unfortunately, these results were uploaded to MyChart after we had left the clinic on Monday and have not discussed what it means with Dr Chen yet. We have a phone consultation scheduled for this coming Monday, while we’re on our annual church beach camp this next week! Once again, would you pray with our family? That the “new nodule” on my lower right lung, would be completely gone on the next imaging or that it’s simply nothing?
The gift of this ongoing process is being continuously brought to the foot of the old rugged cross. The only place that holds true peace and acceptance for this journey I would never have chosen for myself, or anyone. This August will be four years since my diagnosis. And if it had not been for the two reoccurrences (and looking at a potiential 3rd) I would have been 1 year away from the 5-year mark that would have meant I could quit maintenance treatment and resume a “normal” life outside of doctors' appointments, and IV medication. What I would not give to have my port taken out!
1 Peter 5:6-7
Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.
So, we continue to wait. “So that at the proper time he may exalt you”
With the understanding that my proper time might very well be the same time I hear “well done my good and faithful servant” (matt 25:21), we wait.
The gift of this waiting for yet another scan, more blood work, and more consults; is repeatedly learning to be submitted in trust to Christ. I am thankful for hard yet stable reminders that my life is hid with Christ on high and let this breed acceptance and peace in my heart and mind.
Colossians 3:1-4
If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory