 The body/mind connection has always been a powerful one for me, so after exploring possible physical causes for my fatigue, nausea, and feelings of unsteadiness, my doctor and I agreed to move on to motional ones. Stress. The pills she prescribed kept me on an even-keel—I barely missed a beat in teaching if I had to leave the classroom to throw up—but didn’t touch the physical symptoms. The nurse practitioner didn’t waste time when I told her the pills didn’t help; my doctor already had a CT scan as the next step in her notes and we set one up for the following week. Early on a Tuesday morning I had the scan in Elkhart. As Jeff and I shopped at Meijer on our way back to Plymouth, my doctor’s office called and told us to abandon our groceries, head back to the hospital, and go directly to the ER. The scan had found a mass in my head. The nurse practitioner had already called the neurosurgeon, but she was in surgery. The fact that the nurse practitioner used the phrase “probably benign” helped us not to panic as we drove back to the hospital. The Power of Words! Some words we try to live by also helped us—words we attribute to Ken Woodcox, one of Jeff’s former co-workers at Family Christian Development Center. If Jeff started to worry about how the agency would raise enough money or if they’d have enough food in the pantry that week, Ken would often sigh and observe, “Ah yes, why pray when you can worry?” At the ER they started tests and began admitting me to the hospital. The first doctor to listen to my full story in the ER smiled when I told her my symptoms had been going on about a year. “That’s good,” she said. “If it’s been going on that long it’s probably benign.” The power of words again. When I finally talked with the neurosurgeon while waiting for an MRI late that afternoon, she agreed: “probably benign.” If the neurosurgeon had been available to look at the CT scan and talk with me earlier that day, I would not have had to go back to the ER. No real emergency in treating the tumor. However, because I did go back, I benefitted from a rare cancelation for the following Monday on the neurosurgeons’ OR schedule—in my doctor’s words: “that never happens." When a doctor decides to do a CT scan of your brain, she’s not looking for anything good. It felt impossible for me to define what a “good” outcome could be, other than explaining my symptoms and being fixable! A line from Shrek kept the operation in perspective in the days leading up to the surgery: “Better out than in, I always say.” I’ve been closing each worship service at Tyner UMC with Ephesians 3:20-21 since I started preaching there in July. Saying the words each week has helped them to become words I live by: To Him who by means of his power working in us is able to do so much more than we can ever ask for, or even think of: To God be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus for all time, forever and ever! Amen. The tumor was benign, slow growing (I’ve probably had it for years), behind my right ear which was an easy place to operate, self-contained, and pressing on my brain in a place that perfectly explained all my symptoms. A best-case scenario—and so much more than I could ever have asked for or even thought of. Post-surgery the fatigue, nausea, feeling unsteady when I walk, and dizziness have disappeared as the neurosurgeon predicted; unfortunately, my taste for sugar has returned with a vengeance! I was pleasantly surprised to be released from the hospital on Wednesday and given very few restrictions for my recovery period. I feel fantastic and I’m still taking inventory of all the blessings that have come from this unexpected and challenging few weeks. | *"words to |
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AuthorCathy's writing often springs from devotional or other reading, small group studies she's leading and message series she's curating at our church Archives
January 2020
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