Thursday, March 10, 2011

A slice of life - in the context of a planetary pilgrim

I had a biopsy today. A biopsy. All Greek to you, you say? Well, perhaps. But keep in mind that some of our family's best friends are Greek! Doing a biopsy, means taking a look at life. "Bio" means life, and the rest of the word comes from a Greek word that  means "view"

Since cancer cells are extremely successful at growing, the trained observer can determine whether a tissue sample is malignant or not by the speed at which the cells multiphy. Malignant is such a heavy word. Malignant, malevolent, sinister, evil. Let us be more generous toward the cookie-eating monster under my bed: we might (might) say that it is just a successful little bugger that is growing too fast. Should that be the case, the medical people in my corner would discover that the biopsy shows cancer.

"Medical people in my corner", "the cookie-eating monster under my bed", "family", "Greek". Those are all words that I am using to place what is happening to me into a context that I can understand. I am seeking to normalize things. No, I am not escaping, avoiding or denying what might be happening. I am reducing it to a size I can understand and deal with. 

Some time ago I attended a three-day seminar on Cancer, as part of my Chaplaincy Residency training. There I heard a specialist describe cancer cells as highly successful. I was fascinated! I thought, "Wow, I wonder what could happen if science could harness their power!" And we will, someday. As my grandson Gabriel used to say when he was little: "Not yet, maybe later; soon"

So now we wait. My surgeon has already decided that this uninvited guest is coming out, regardless of how fast or how slow it is growing. So, wat the biopsy a waste of time, given that the lump is coming out anyway? Perhaps. However, it might confirm what the doctor already suspects. The more we know about what we are dealing with, the better. One way or the other, it is curtains for that cookie-eating pest. That will happen on the 24th of March, at St. Mary's Hospital. That feels comforting, to me, somehow.

The medical team in my corner includes a doctor who calls himself  "Shark". The doctor who specializes in the science of radiology, is Dr. Shaw. He did the biopsy today. I have seen him many times in the Cafe 911, at St. Mary's. Today I saw him from another perspective. We were not looking at one another from a vertical point of view. Today I was lying, looking up at the ceiling, and he was working his science with his instruments, while performing magic with his voice. Setting me at ease, explaining, chatting, using humour to disguise the fact that there was a little bit of a sting to the initial needle.


The nurse who attended to me is called Angela. There are many angels at St. Mary's. Some you see, some you feel. This one was both. On my way out she wished me well with my next adventure on the 24th of March. I had the feeling that she meant every word. I hope that people find my own words of comfort as inspiring when I speak with them. 

After my experience at the hospital I went to lunch with Rukhsana and Eileen, long time friends who have minded the financial fortunes of the Multicultural Centre for a long time. When we worked together I was the lucky one. I just had to find the money. They had to keep track of it, and keep all the papers in order. When Eileen first came to the Centre, the budget was something like $25,000. Today it is around $1.6 million!

At lunch we were joined by another person in my team: my husband David. Now, there is a fine man, who loves cookies, but does not live under my bed. My main man, together with my two fine kids, their children and partners. We will see this through, inshallah!

It is time I got going; but we'll see each other around,  I am sure, on the road to Santiago.