For the next 2 weeks and 2 days, this pilgrim will be waiting. My appointment for surgery is for March 24, which is the eve of the Annunciation, for those who keep calendars. That will determine where we go after that.
Dr. Seuss talks about waiting in his wonderful book Oh, The Places You'll Go!
Listen to the genius of Dr. Seuss:
"You can get so confused that you'll start in to race down long-wiggled roads
at a break-necking pace, and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space, headed,
I fear, toward a most useless space. The Waiting Place ...
........................
Waiting, perhaps, for their uncle Jake, or a pot to boil, or a better break,
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants, or a wig with curls, or Another Chance..."
Today my surgeon spoke about the immediate future with me. A biopsy, this week. And on March 24, surgery to remove my uninvited guest, the lump in my left breast. He spoke clearly, I thought, and matter-of-factly, with dignity and humour. I liked that.
If I had met a doctor who was a sour and nasty person, I would not have been too happy. Granted, this is not a picnic in Victoria Park. We are talking about serious stuff, here - my body, my health. I know I need a doctor, not a clown. But he was friendly, open to questions, comfortable, and welcoming.
My appointment won't take place for more than 2 weeks. I already described the waiting experience as "not as much fun as chewing aluminium foil." That is one of the challenges of this situation. The waiting. The other is the craziness of knowing that you feel absolutely well, but that there may be something that is not well within you. More waiting.
Two Sundays ago, the choir sang "Be still, my soul" at Trinity United Church: "thy hope, thy confidence, let nothing shake." I will try to be still. And I will not be nasty to my uninvited guest. While I wait, I shall talk nicely to the monsters under my bed.
I shall feed them cookies, as Sister Barbara suggests. No bitterness, and no undue fear, I hope. And I shall continue to eat broccoli! Oh, yes. A positive attitude is what I am asking for, and lots of broccoli for me, please!
It is time I got going. And I will see you around, on the way to Santiago.
About Me
- Myrta Rivera
- After having had had surgery to remove a cancerous breast lump, and lymph nodes, I received chemotherapy and radiation as further treatment. Recently I have discovered that the cancer has metastasized to the bones. I am a grandmother of three wonderful kids. I love telling stories. Was born in Puerto Rico, and have lived in Canada for 43 years. I am the mother of two adult children. Speak English, Spanish and some Greek. Have managed a social service agency serving immigrants and refugees. Now work as a chaplain at a medium sized hospital in Southwestern Ontario.