Saturday, July 18, 2009

~ Pre Good Friday

So, at first I was in denial. This just COULD NOT BE HAPPENING TO ME!!! Not in 2009. Not in my 10 year anniversary from the last time the devil tried to kill me. In December, 1999 my right leg was amputated below the knee because of – I’m still not sure why circulation in that leg decreased to the point where it was extremely painful. A Doppler test revealed there was no pulse below my knee and this surgeon botched up the bypass surgery that would have recreated a route for blood to travel to the foot and leg.

SIDEBAR: Always get a 2nd opinion where your health is concerned, especially if you don’t like the first one!

It took a long time to get over that event. A long time to mentally and spiritually heal; the physical healing occurred in that moment. I was 42 years old with 2 teenagers, a husband and a job and I did not have time to be immobile. But during that 10 year period God drew me into an intimacy with Him that had not existed before. It was that intimacy that caused me to write and publish my first book “Five Revelations Improve Your Relationship with God”.

When the calendar page flipped to 2009, I immediately began to think of how I would celebrate this 10 year milestone in my life. I thought me, Claudette and Tammy would fly somewhere for a girls weekend – even if it was just to Chicago. Neither of them are particularly fond of flying. I thought of having a mad gala event, inviting all. Suddenly odd little things began to happen like I lost my drivers license and auto registration. Then I locked myself out of my apartment. Oh there were lots of other annoying things like that that occurred. It didn’t help that as I found myself with cancer, the City of Southfield arranged for a towing company to come through my apartment complex looking for expired license plates. Apparently my little sticker had been “stolen” off my plate and the people who run my apartment building, the people to whom I pay rent authorized the towing of my car. The tow company notified my finance company, the court system; it was a real mess; one that I didn’t need right now.

And I sure as hell didn’t need cancer ~ ever! For over a week I searched my former husbands insurance for a doctor whose name would leap out at me when I saw it. It never happened. Finally I asked God what should I do, the answer came immediately, go see your own doctor. Now, I have a tremendous respect for my own doctor but his bedside manner leaves something to be desired and for some reason I thought that was important in this season. I thought back to the first time I saw Dr. Pierce, he was recommended by my best friend – Tammy – because her daughter (my goddaughter) had good experiences with him. One of the first things he said to me was “I hate sick people, so let’s see how to get you unsick.” It was something that impressed me and kept me there for all these years. I saw Dr. Pierce on April 12 and he was as abrupt as ever, coming in shaking hands, distractedly. “When was the last time I saw you?” he demanded in that staccato tone. Finding my answer unsatisfactory he let me know “that’s not an answer.” After reviewing what he needed to from my chart “why are you here today?” My answer evoked a response I was not prepared for, he quickly, I mean immediately looked up at me; sprang up out of his chair and morphed into action. “You need a gown, I need to examine you – let me get the nurse, I’ll be right back.”

He examined me and felt the lump. It was the day before Good Friday and oddly I was able to get an appointment that day. After God’s direction I balked at calling Dr. Pierce but I did and the receptionist informed me that Dr Pierce would be on vacation beginning Good Friday, which is when I requested the appointment. I did not explain the nature of my call and was rather surprised when she said “I’ve got one for today if you want to come in about an hour.” Hmmm, pre Good Friday grace. Right away Dr. Pierce scheduled a mammogram for me and explained that he would be gone the next week but by the time he got back the test results would be back as well.

On the following Monday I went back to his office where a van/truck thing was set up outside to do mammograms. The technician was very good, it didn’t hurt much. She felt the lump herself and as she administered the test I could see the x-ray on the screen. It was gray, like film paper, and a mysterious white rectangular shape appeared right where the lump was. Knowing what she knew the technician advised that I should have an ultrasound also. She was surprised that Dr. Pierce did not order one and figuring it was a simple oversight she called his receptionist and advised that I have the ultrasound. She knew he would want it. The receptionist called me on the cell phone and asked me to come back on Wednesday for the ultrasound.

I enjoyed reading the thank you letters to Dr. Pierce that covered the walls of the ultrasound room. I even anticipated writing one to him myself . . .once this thing is over. . . A week later we reviewed the reports and he referred me to Dr. Kestenberg, a surgeon. I thanked God for the direction, confident that Dr. Pierce still disliked sick people.

My God is Bigger Than Cancer ~ St. Patrick’s Day

March 17, 2009, certainly a memorable day because my firstborn, my manchild, my boo was born on St. Patrick’s Day in 1984. James David Roosevelt Dickson was literally trying to jump into this world feet first which of course meant caesarean section for me. Don’t get me started talking about becoming a first time mother! I was absolutely in love with this little manchild who slept in a drawer his first night at home because he didn’t have a bed yet. He was a funny kid, loved making Jessica laugh – in fact, he still does. But before Jessica came along fourteen months later, James was adorable. I like to warn parents to pay attention to the clues that kids give you about who they are. It’s not always as clearly defined as it was with James but the signs are there. When James was 2 and 3 years old he began walking around with a pencil in his hand. I caught more flak from the grandmothers “don’t let him walk around with that pencil in his hand, he’s gonna poke his eye out!” Now, I wasn’t all super-intellectually-sensitive to my son, meaning, I didn’t know why he always had a pen or pencil in hand, I just knew it was important to him. I thought he was trying to use it like a microphone so I bought him a kiddie microphone. James walked around with a pen in one hand and the microphone in the other!

He grew into a huge WWF fan and on one occasion was extremely upset at the exploits of Vince McMahon (WWF owner) and so he wrote a ‘rant’ on some website devoted to such outcry. His thesis was” Is Barnum right – is ANY publicity good publicity?” When I read my 14 year old son’s dissertation I was amazed and demanded to know who really wrote it. He was totally unaware of the maturity or artistry his writing displayed, he was simply indignant and wanted to be heard. After sending it to friends and family for their perusal I gave James two pieces of advice. The first was to take a typing class (anybody who could write like this doesn’t need to be hindered by hunt and peck!). The second was to take a journalism class. He did both and as a freshman at University of Michigan was on the editorial board of the Michigan Review. In his senior year he was editor in chief and he now is an editorial writer for the Detroit News.

So here we are celebrating James birthday the weekend prior to St. Patrick’s Day because Jessica was in town and we could all be together. I called him on the actual day . . . us Moms can’t forget the actual day! And as I retired for the night I was proud of my 25 year old son. My, the kids sure are getting old! And on St. Patrick’s Day I felt a knot in my left breast that undeniably did not belong there and had never been there. Hmm, didn’t one of the insurance companies just send me something about mammograms. . .I’d better check.