God Moves in Mysterious Ways

“God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,
The clouds ye so much dread
are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace;
Behind a frowning providence,
He hides a smiling face.”

This is just three verses of this beautiful profound hymn that God placed on my heart this week. 

I am a cardiology nurse on a floor where we monitor our patients’ hearts with a wireless telemetry “box” attached to 5 leads on their chest.  We are a cardiac floor, but occasionally cancer patients are admitted to my floor.

I almost always am assigned the cancer patients by chance……   God moves in a mysterious way.  

By God's grace, a beautiful woman was admitted to my floor who had breast cancer 19 years ago and just during the past year, the cancer metastasized to her liver, lungs and brain.  Her comment to me, over and over, as I admitted her last Monday night was, “I can’t do this anymore”.  She was weak, in pain, couldn’t breathe without supplemental oxygen and had a horrible headache that would not go away… most likely from the lesions in her brain.

As I admitted her to the floor, I did everything that I could to make her comfortable.  Earlier this fall, she had agreed to a clinical trial of a new drug for breast cancer metastases, which she believed made her worse.  She was done.   I told her that I had been through treatment for cancer and that I knew a little about the way she was feeling

I got her heated blankets, because when you are on chemo, you are freezing all the time.  I got her extra pillows for her arms, back and bottom, because when you have lost so much weight during chemo, there is no fat on your butt or bones for padding and it literally hurts to sit in a chair or bed or a bathtub.   I got her crackers and mashed potatoes, because those were the only things that she could stand to eat. 

I did everything that I could possibly think of to make her comfortable, and I called the doctor and got her the strongest pain meds possible for her excruciating headache.   She confided to me that she has an adult handicapped daughter at home.  I cannot begin to explain why God would allow this woman to have cancer.

But I can, just for one shift, empathize with her, listen to her, and try to do the simplest of things to make her more comfortable.

Thank you, dear Lord for placing me in the most humbling, gratifying position of being a nurse to the sick, the poor, the elderly and the homeless.   I am truly blessed beyond all possible measure.   And every day, I am grateful.

 

William Cowper was a British poet and hymnist. He struggled throughout his life with depression, doubts, and fears.

Blessed

As the new year starts, two words keep coming to my mind:   Grateful and Blessed.

People Magazine Cover

I finished chemotherapy on December 4^th and to be honest, I didn't feel great for the last several weeks of chemo.   I am so thankful that chemo is over, and I am feeling a little better each day.  The first round of chemo in Kansas City was composed of the two worst drugs, but the second rounds of chemo that started in September were the hardest because the infusions were every week, with no time to rebound in between treatments.   The cumulative effect was apparent after the first few weeks.   I cannot say it enough: I am so very thankful that I could finish my chemo.   I am lucky because many people can’t complete all 16 chemotherapy treatments that are recommended for this type of breast cancer, because of cardiac or anemia issues.   Also, many times chemo is delayed because immunity is suppressed, which is measured by white blood cell count.   I am so grateful that I never had to skip a chemo treatment, as that would have delayed my surgery and recovery, and I am so thankful that I could take every chemo treatment, the consequences of which are obvious.  

I had my lumpectomy and sentinel node biopsy this past Friday, January 2^nd, and the surgeon found no signs of cancer in either the breast or lymph nodes.   I will get a call next week with the results of the full pathology of the tissue that was removed.   In a few weeks, I will begin radiation, which lasts for six weeks.  This ensures that no cancer cells can survive and reduces greatly the possibility of recurrence of the cancer.

It has now been almost seven months since I was diagnosed with triple negative breast cancer.  

If you have ever gone whitewater rafting, you may recall that the guide tells you that if you get tossed out of the boat in the middle of a rapid, you should NOT try to swim back to the boat or fight your way to shore.    The guide instructs you to try to keep your head above water, turn and face downstream, and pull your knees to your chest and let the river current carry you downstream.   When you and the boat are both in more calm water, someone in the boat will try to rescue you to safety.

On June 19, 2014, I was tossed out of the boat into the biggest set of rapids that I have ever experienced in my life. I could not swim, because for a while, I did not even realize what had happened to me.   I tried to keep my head above water and pointed downstream and when I could, I rested and remembered God's promises to me:  God promised He would never leave me nor forsake me, that His plans are to prosper me and not to harm me, and that he would help me.   

I have been trying to keep my head above water in the current of the river ever since my diagnosis of breast cancer.   Sometimes, I could not see the shore, or my friends in the boat.   Other times, my head was pulled underwater and I wondered if I would make it back to the surface.   I know now that God is pulling me out of the river to safety.  I can literally feel his arms around me, pulling me back into the boat.   There is no more cancer, God has provided for all of my needs and I am starting to interview for nursing jobs.

God has been so good to me during this treatment and I am surrounded by loving friends and family.  Allie did leave to work on Grand Cayman November 26, she got a job as a dive instructor for the Lobster Pot Dive Center in Georgetown.   I am happy for her and so glad she has the opportunity to live her dream.  I am also thankful that she is closer to the US and I definitely am planning a trip to visit her when my treatment is complete.

Grand Cayman

This past week, I had the opportunity to read the story of the health care personnel fighting Ebola in West Africa.   Their story is one of courage and compassion.   It has inspired me greatly as I search for work as a nurse.   I chose nursing because I wanted a tangible skill with which to serve people.  I know that God has used the last seven months to teach me compassion and empathy. 

 

This email reassured me greatly, “ Like you, I believe God has great things for you.  I also believe the fear and uncertainty you are experiencing right now are part of the preparation for what's ahead.  These feelings are experienced by everyone who's faced with a life-threatening illness.  Your experience of this will allow you to serve your patients with greater insight and compassion in the future.  Surrender your fear and let God fill your heart with his love.  He's holding you in the palm of his hand and I am holding you in my heart. “

Whenever we go through a devastating experience, it is an incredible opportunity for the redemption of something.  I am now asking myself, “How can I be better now because of what I have been through?”

I thank God for trusting me with this trial and I trust that I will come through this experience a better equipped nurse and friend.