“I love those who love me; and those who diligently seek me will find me.”
Proverbs 8:17
“There’s a finding,” she says.
“Can I say bad words?” I respond.
“You wouldn’t be the first.” she admits, just before ducking out the door to arrange a diagnostic test instead of my usual routine screening. For the first time ever the word “diagnostic” sounds menacing.
I don’t say bad words, or anything at all for that matter. I inhale deep, tug my hot pink waffle weave robe tight around my body, and wait.
Fifteen minutes earlier I noticed they had new robes. That means I’ve been coming to this place long enough to notice. I initially thought the scripted letters spelled “L o v e” on my robe but that was when I arrived, happy, carefree, anticipating routine.
Despite my family’s history being anything but . . .
Later, when getting dressed, I would realize the letters were just the initials of the imaging center.
I’m finally at the age when getting a mammogram doesn’t phase me, barely embarrasses me.
Well, scanning images isn’t technically the embarrassing part. The embarrassing part is when the tech asks me to drop my right sleeve and sidle up to the Mammomat, a cold dinosaur with gaping mouth eager to clamp down on my right breast, then greedy enough to demand the left.
She positions my breast and nudges my shoulder or lifts my arm until it’s just so, then stands behind her plexiglass fortress and tells me not to breathe. I see each image as it flashes across her screen, a road map going no where, a foreign planet.
I look for something but see nothing; I don’t know how to read the language of my own body.
She has the radiologist read my images while I wait, a courtesy not always extended, and when she returns she says, “Remember the cyst from last year? It’s much larger . . .” and her eyes grow big, revealing more than her words.
“There’s a finding . . .” and she explains they have to alert my doctor as she scurries away to do her job.
I want to bolt but where would I go?
I’m on my back, my arm over my head. She squeezes warm gel on my skin displacing it with the transducer, gliding back and forth, back and forth, looking, looking, looking.
I see it just as fast as she does, and it looks enormous. “It’s actually two cysts,” she tells me and I ask her, “How big?” She clicks one end, then the other, “An inch.” Over twice as before. How could I not feel that? I wonder. She takes a disk for the doctor to assess.
In less than three minutes she’s ushering me out the door, assuring me that it’s nothing to be concerned about, “We’ll keep watching . . .” and that sounds good to me.
It’s good because he didn’t see anything of concern, but there are niggling questions: Did he take enough time to study the image? Did he take into account my family history?
It can be dangerous hearing what you want to hear. I know better than that; my friend, Stephanie, paid for it with her life.
There’s this point in motherhood where you cease longing for more years for the sake of longer life and beg God for more time to watch your babies grow up. I think about this from time to time, I’m sure because I was robbed of time with my own mother. I’ve already outlived her by 15 years.
We bargain with God, though we don’t readily admit it. I’ll do my part if you do yours. Mammogram, annual check up, self-exams, attention to diet, exercise.
Our actions speak.
And yet . . .
You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed. (Psalm 139:16-17)
God knows our earthly beginning and end, but everything in us fights for a prolonged in-between.
Sometimes I wrestle with if God already knows everything about me — my birth, my death, and everything in between — how much is it up to me to determine early detection and to do everything I can to extend my life? Does it make a difference if He already knows?
Sunday school answers come easy.
“There’s a finding.”
Those words reverberate in my head, they pick at my heart.
Like a bolt, it strikes me: there’s a finding because we were looking.
You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart. (Jeremiah 29:13)
“Finding” is a good thing.
It begs a question, though: What are you looking for?
Bev @ Walking Well With God says
Robin,
I’ve walked in those shoes of “there’s a finding” (only at the other end of my body). It’s scary when all the “But God, I still want to __________”‘s run through our mind. It’s a reminder of our mortality and an about face as to knowing what our future holds. The more fragile that I see this life is…the more I look forward, with longing, to the eternal Kingdom of God. I want to hold grandbabies in this life, but my first job is to seek Him and to encourage my children to seek Him so that their children will seek Him. Oh how I want the legacy of my family to be one who loves Christ well so that we may never again have to worry about “findings” in heaven because we will have found our rightful place. Praying for you Robin for a long and prosperous life and only good findings…always love your writing 🙂
Blessings,
Bev
Bonnie says
Tears…be strong and courageous… Or weak and He will be ur strength…holding on to the promises with you, dear sisters …
Robin Dance says
How beautiful, Bev. Jean Fleming first pointed out to me that the fragility of our bodies points to eternity, a reminder that we aren’t made for this world. I believe that the legacy you so long to leave WILL be the one that reaches into future generations. Thank you for such a brave, bold declaration of your love for God. xo
PW says
Ironically I am having a colonoscopy this morning. My 3rd. Father and brother died of colon cancer, grandmother colon cancer . I thought last night too, someone will get an abnormal lab result in that lab today. But I pray I will always run to Him- thank you for that reminder … He does not hide His face from us – We will find Him. Immanuel with us
Robin Dance says
((hugs)) to you, PW. If you see this, will you let me know the results of your test? Praising our great God that, indeed, He is ALWAYS with us!
Beth Williams says
PW
Praying for you sweet sister! May God give you more time to find Him. Prayers for peace to enter your heart and soul!
(((((Hugs)))))
Joanne says
Robin Thankyou for sharing your heart and your fears. I have just completed radiation and chemotherapy for breast cancer and at 55 it is a slow road to healing. The side effects have revved up my arthritis and my breast is peeling dead skin like the world’s most insane sunburn. Some days I feel 100 and fear I am near the end of the road, but more often I feel God holding me in the palm of His hand, gently reminding me He loves me and that He is there for me. I lost a friend at 36 to this disease so I have no illusions, but I am so thankful for amazingly giving doctors and nurses and the technology to give me my best chance at life and health. Honestly, every day here on Earth is a blessing and a joy. And I know I gave nothing to fear when my time here is over.
Robin Dance says
You are so brave, Joanne, whether you feel like it or not. You honor your Father well, and I believe His strength has become yours. I wish I could wave a magic wand and relieve the unpleasant side effects of your treatment, but thank you for your honesty, transparency, and hope! You are a warrior, fighting an enemy. xo
Beth Williams says
Joanne,
Such a strong woman! Your amazing faith has kept you going!! May God heal you completely!
I pray for His peace to enter you heart and soul! Keep on fighting sweet sister!
(((((Hugs)))))
Lynn Schroeder says
Stopped in my busy morning tracks already. Getting a dose of beautiful perspective. Thank you for this. Thank you for all of the comments from readers as well. Prayers being said right now for my sisters in Christ…Princess Warriors.
Robin Dance says
I’m so glad you checked in, Lynn. And for praying…yes, more of that, please :).
Eunice says
This reminds me of how I defiantly refuse to balance my bank card. . .for fear of finding the need to stop spending before I WANT to. . .but I know I should. . . that ultimately it is the best practice to prevent the worst. We hold so much power that we surrender to not knowing painful truths. . .that ignorance is bliss is so overrated and untrue. I hate those mammograms. . .and recall being called back after my first. Such fear. . .esp. for me having worked as an oncology nurse for many years. I love this reminder to make an exerted effort to be proactive. Esp. in finding God and placing Him First. Thanks for sharing this.
Robin Dance says
Your comment was a lovely affirmation, Eunice. Thank you for taking time to read and share your perspective. Ignorance IS bliss…but only for a season. Or a second :).
Brenda says
Robin,
I love your posts. This was so real and touching. It made me think again how much He really loves us and the reality of how much we need Him. I’m so thankful that He is The Rock we can run to, and also he uses the encouraging words of others to continue to lift us up and let us know we are not alone. I’m with Lynn, thank all of you sisters for your comments and praying we will all abound with thanksgiving more and more each day and continue to pour into the lives of others. Xoxoxo & hugs
Robin Dance says
Brenda, way to fill my tank :). See me smiling over here? I kinda feel like this comment thread is a circle of encouragement. Which makes sense………..this IS (in)courage, after all :).
Michele Morin says
Oh, goodness. Reading your words, Robin, and then the comments: so much courage, so much beauty. Blessed by you all, today.
Renee says
This speaks so loudly my body wants to give a physical response to your words. A year ago last August we were moving to AZ full time….house on the market, the senior season ahead of us full of God’s promises and purpose. And then during our routine physicals my hubby received great results and me? A diagnosis of breast cancer. It took the wind out of our sails and the house off the market. I had a good prognosis and radiation, though very difficult on my body, is over. This year, I sat in the waiting room after the mammogram waiting because they saw “something new” in the other breast. several more mammogram images and an ultrasound later………I left that place feeling relief. Just a cyst….but heading back in 6 months. I struggled with trusting the radiologist, but the tech who worked with me turned out to be a Christian and she asked if she could pray with me. She did. God sent an angel to pray with me…….And I will keep praying every time I go, thank you for your healing power in my life, in my breasts and let the doctors always see clearly IF anything come up. My life is in your hands and it is you I trust! Again, thank you for sharing this today…….I needed this, in November!
Robin Dance says
Renee, oh my. What a ride the past year or so. You, too, bring glory to God with your response to your first diagnosis, and then again with your second scare. You have NO idea how many people you encourage simply by being you :). Don’t ever stop!
Robin Dance says
I feel the exact same way, Michele xo.
Penny says
Robin,
Thank-you for sharing your post today….
The anticipation of the finding…. I’m so relieved the Lord had it covered, and that it turned out well. Prayers for a long time of turning out wells ahead for you.
Prayers the Lord may bring you all comfort as you heal, wait, or wonder.
Penny
Robin Dance says
Thank you, Penny 🙂
Rebecca L Jones says
I understand getting bad news, being afraid. I hate going to the doctor, I avoid anything I can. I know there are times I should have went. So I don’t recommend that, either. Yet, I choose to believe His report from Isaiah 53. I know I have a Master Physician, and I was a blue baby, I’ve been protected from everything from a house fire to tornado. When my heart was pounding out of my chest, my mother’s prayers calmed it. We are all here for a reason, for someone needs us, we need each other. We have an enemy, God didn’t put him in our book, Adam did. So we have to hold onto to His promises.
Robin Dance says
Praise God that our God is one who always delivers what He promises; in His time, in His way. May He be ever-merciful in showing us more of Him, that we might declare His goodness and graciousness. 🙂
Yvonne says
Oh my word, this spoke to me so loudly. I had my annual screening last week and experienced exactly the same emotions but God is so good and all is well……..
Lori says
Robin, this was such balm to my anxiety right now. My mom was a breast cancer survivor of 15 years, but later died of ovarian cancer at 62, found too late, as is usual with ovarian. Based on her history, my aunt’s and great aunt’s breast cancers, and my young adult daughter’s recent thyroid cancer DX, I decided to do genetic testing. I was positive for BRCA2, so am in the middle of trying to unpack all of that, with its implications for me, my brothers, and my own young daughter and son; along with upcoming thyroid surgery for my daughter’s cancer, it is hard, hard, hard to rest in Him and the finding. Do I allow anxiety to cripple me, or simply feel blessed that we know what we know and that His plan is perfect? Sigh…praying for your peace and health in this, and again, just thank you!
Beth Williams says
Lori,
Praying for peace to enter you heart and soul! Feel blessed that God has given us this technology to know this information. You may be able to stave off any cancer. Don’t let anxiety rule in your life. Rest in His unfailing love and care for you. Enjoy each and every moment and day you have with your family.
(((((((HUGS)))))))
Beth Williams says
Robin,
Love your posts! You are always so open & honest about life situations! Praying for a good outcome & for peace to enter you heart and soul! I am looking/enjoying peace with God finally. I’ve had a long 2 year battle with my aging dad’s worsening dementia. It was hard, but with each downfall I turned to God and asked for relief. God finally in His timing healed him back to his normal. He is now living in a newer assisted living close to me. It is so wonderful to take him out for walks.
I’m looking for a kinder/gentler America that loves God. Praying for peace and unity in our nation.
Blessings 🙂 (P.S. Let me know what happens).
Maureen says
Robin, what a great script of your internal dialogue. I can relate to a point. I don’t have any family history, which surely dials down the fear factor. But I have received the “there’s been a finding. Please come back for follow up imaging” call. That, thankfully, was nothing, but it did teach me to take my dense breasts to get mammogrammed on days when the radiologist was onsite. Then there was the “there’s been a finding; we’ll need to follow up with an ultrasound” day.
gulp.
Maybe I should not have come alone.
Whew, just follow up in six months with a diagnostic and another ultrasound.
Then another diagnostic.
But really, what I wanted to share was that at one point I thought, “Lord, I am not worried. Should I be worried? because I am really not.
Am I just cavalier? or do I really trust you?”
I trust God. Everything is fine. Whether we test or not. Early detection or not. God can be trusted. Whether I am cavalier or not, He is trustworthy always.
I am looking for Jesus, Robin… and I am going to keep getting my mammograms;) I have insurance. The imaging center is nearby. It is just good stewardship. And if there should be a finding that turns out to be more serious, I’ll keep looking to Jesus. I know I’ll find Him right there.