I got the phone call – we have a final diagnosis. Diffuse large B-cell lymphoma. That’s good, (good??) we were hoping it was lymphoma because it is so treatable.
It was a phone call that started this roller coaster – my internist called and said that the ultrasound of my gallbladder had shown lymph nodes and she had scheduled a CT scan for the next day. Suddenly I was in the little roller coaster cart and the lap bar was locked down. Not that scary yet, but there was no getting off.
The next phone call was from the same doctor, saying the CT scan had shown a mass on my adrenal gland and she had scheduled an appointment with a “specialist”. What kind of specialist? I almost didn’t ask, knowing what I’d hear but still hoping I wouldn’t. A hematologist-oncologist. The coaster was climbing straight up that hill now. Scary stuff was coming.
Now, this phone call, from the oncologist. “Diffuse large B-cell lymphoma”. I still need a bone marrow biopsy, a heart scan and to have a port placed for the chemo. I start chemo in a week. The coaster is at the very top of the first hill, I’m looking down at the tiny world so far away, scared of the height and more scared of the drop that’s coming. There’s nothing I can do to stop it. I can’t get off. I can’t go back. All I can do is trust that I’m in here safely, that the ride will hold together, and hold on tightly to the hand that has been holding mine all along.
‘Do not fear, for I am with you; do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.’ Isaiah 41:10