Being slow off the mark to write this post is for good reason as I know you'll understand. On holiday Monday, May 22nd, we received word of the passing of my sister in law, Sue Dobbs of Brantford, the day before on May 21st. While diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis a couple of years ago, apparently she'd been managing well until the beginning of May. Sadly we hadn't been in contact for a number of years and it's these times, you wonder what you may have done differently to keep in touch. She was the maid of honour at my first wedding, in 1981, to her older brother Rick. After only two weeks in hospital, at age 62, Sue succumbed to her illness. She'd been able to welcome her newest granddaughter, Stevie, born April 14th (yes named after Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac ). We made the trip to Brantford for a Celebration of Life which was well attended and allowed us to make contact and catch up with members of our extended family on the Dobbs side.
In preparation for our visit, I searched through photos to find a few of Sue and her two children, Kelly and Jay. As it turned out, I found several copies of a 5x7 photo, the only one in existence of all ten Dobbs grandchildren, dated May 3, 1998. I had taken the picture at the same funeral home 19 years earlier at the funeral for their grandfather Jack. They were so pleased to receive a copy giving me an idea to take an update even if three were absent, and many candid shots around the room to provide Sue's kids and other family members with memories of who was there to celebrate Sue's life. And today they are so appreciative in being able to look back and absorb moments of closure in letting their mom go.
In the midst of this sad story, we've had quite a time over the past couple of weeks!
For those who know me well, you will shake your head as I start off with ‘date connections’. Please bear with me. May 16th was my oncology appointment. It was also an auspicious day, being the 40th anniversary of my entrance into the full time, adult work force. On May 16, 1977 I boldly walked to the entrance of Bank of Montreal at Dundas & Wellington in London, Ontario. As I arrived, a rather diminutive man also walked up, keys in hand to enter the bank. I confidently told him I was starting work that day and asked if he’d allow me in. Of course I had no idea he was the Manager of the entire branch, and soon to be appointed District Manager. No matter, in those days, I hadn’t been whitewashed with the order of protocol and workplace hierarchy. I was ready to take on the world (well, sort of), having been hired as a trainee on a management training program. Suffice it to say, at age 20, it led to a 23 year career in banking with many moves, challenges and learning opportunities along the way.
In preparation for our visit, I searched through photos to find a few of Sue and her two children, Kelly and Jay. As it turned out, I found several copies of a 5x7 photo, the only one in existence of all ten Dobbs grandchildren, dated May 3, 1998. I had taken the picture at the same funeral home 19 years earlier at the funeral for their grandfather Jack. They were so pleased to receive a copy giving me an idea to take an update even if three were absent, and many candid shots around the room to provide Sue's kids and other family members with memories of who was there to celebrate Sue's life. And today they are so appreciative in being able to look back and absorb moments of closure in letting their mom go.
In the midst of this sad story, we've had quite a time over the past couple of weeks!
For those who know me well, you will shake your head as I start off with ‘date connections’. Please bear with me. May 16th was my oncology appointment. It was also an auspicious day, being the 40th anniversary of my entrance into the full time, adult work force. On May 16, 1977 I boldly walked to the entrance of Bank of Montreal at Dundas & Wellington in London, Ontario. As I arrived, a rather diminutive man also walked up, keys in hand to enter the bank. I confidently told him I was starting work that day and asked if he’d allow me in. Of course I had no idea he was the Manager of the entire branch, and soon to be appointed District Manager. No matter, in those days, I hadn’t been whitewashed with the order of protocol and workplace hierarchy. I was ready to take on the world (well, sort of), having been hired as a trainee on a management training program. Suffice it to say, at age 20, it led to a 23 year career in banking with many moves, challenges and learning opportunities along the way.
May 16th also happens to be the birthday of a dear friend now living in Montreal, one who turned 88 this year and calls me almost every day. Thank you Mary! For whatever reason I've been given the gift of remembering and connecting the 'date dots' in my small circle of the world.
Back to the medical adventure. At the outset of my appointment I found the nerve to politely voice my concerns over the way the last appointment left me feeling low, almost despondent in the way matters were discussed. Careful to say it was what I heard, not necessarily what was said that bothered me, we were able to resolve my concerns. I asked for, and was given, the first pelvic exam in 3-4 years. No, I don’t know why it hadn’t been done sooner, maybe they didn’t think I’d be around this long to even check it out. The spread to my liver back in 2013 had certainly been a head scratching development. And one that grabbed all the attention of my medical team at the time and since. The pelvic exam is routinely done every 6 months for genye cancer patients as the only real way to check for return or spread of disease is to do a visual exam. When given the ‘all clear’ signal I was thrilled, ready to happy dance all the way down the hall. But no, even in the midst of good news, we must be sensitive to the fact others may be receiving difficult news about their own illness.
Next was the tactile exam of the mass in my middle which continues to stick out like a sore thumb. Well, not really, I just thought it was a funny mental image. It is big though, and reminding me in various ways it’s there. Increased pressure on my belly as well as the sensation of something pushing outward under my ribs. Not nearly as terrifying as I’d always expected, knowing something is there that shouldn't be and has the potential to limit my future. The bottom line is, as long as it’s not creating symptoms that decrease my quality of life, there’s not going to be treatment. The oncologist, on feeling the mass, said ‘We could radiate that’. Oh, ok. After a few moments, she decided to order a follow up cat scan (remember in January an ultrasound showed no disease progression) about which she commented she was not telling me why so as not to worry me. ‘I have an idea’. While some may fret over such a comment, I was excited. At least they’re considering some alternative action.
Immediately following, I went for a blood test to check creatinine levels. My guess is since creatinine levels signal the level of kidney function, they have to make sure it’s sufficient to flush out the toxins in the dye used for the CT. Forgetting to ask when I might expect the call for the scan, I called the secretary today to check the status. I’m making an effort to rid my mind of items on my mental to do list.
To sum it up, pelvic exam clear of any recurrence, mass in the middle is to be scanned for review and possible action. Life goes on as usual as long as symptoms don’t arise and persist. Wow, when I put that way, I could have provided a medical update in two sentences rather than two paragraphs!
As I slow down the pace of day to day life, a new white board is emerging in my collective consciousness. It's a principle of Ignatian Spirituality which is to find God in all things. As I practice, I'm becoming more aware of things people say, messages I get from reading and remaining open.
An example, there have been many people of late asking me if I'm in remission. In carefully measured words I tell them, I've never been in remission, and while medicine can only go so far, I'm relying more heavily on the power of prayer. With prayer anything is possible.
After mass last Sunday a couple caught up with me after mass, commenting on how well I looked. And yes, they too asked if I was in remission. They wondered if I was in the same position as a friend of theirs who was told "You will die WITH cancer, but you won't die OF it." I'd never heard it put that way. It struck a cord reminding me of the comment from my old friend who arrived at my door to give me a message saying, "You will be ok, even through this, your work is not finished." Thought provoking to say the least.
I will conclude this post by sharing an incident from our second last night of the Alpha course at church last Tuesday. The film was titled 'Does God Heal Today?'. During our small group discussion we were encouraged to ask guests what they would like to be prayed for in their life. One member asked if we could pray for healing of her knee which has been almost crippling over the past four months. She'd been told by her family doctor, she's likely going to need a second knee replacement, but in the meantime a referral would be made to an orthopaedic surgeon to provide a cortisone shot to ease the pain. Expected appointment time? 6-8 months!
We prayed for relief of her pain but if she was to endure this suffering to intercede for us and at least get her to see the surgeon for some relief while waiting even longer for a knee replacement.
The very next morning, not an appointment notice in the mail, but a phone call from the surgeon's office asking if she could come in this past Tuesday! Coincidence? I think NOT! Power of prayer? Absolutely. We learned at our closing session, she'd seen the surgeon earlier in the day. Review of X-rays reflect no need of a knee replacement. A cyst behind her knee is from severe arthritis which could be relieved with the cortisone shot which was given at the time. A follow up in three months to see how she's doing with the possibility of no further treatment being required. She was practically dancing a jig on her way to the microphone to share with the entire group, the outcome of her prayer experience. God is good! Our small group acknowledge how blessed and privileged we felt to be in the presence of Holy Spirit at work in such a direct and tangible way.
The promise of hope, the promise of God hearing our voice, the promise of Holy Spirit interceding on our behalf, stirs up an intense feeling of internal joy. May others we've prayed for be blessed with God's grace and mercy.
Until next time, take care and God Bless,
Hugs
Liz
p.s. By the writing of my next post, my son Matt will be married to his best friend Jaclyn!
dobbsjones@gmail.com
"The gift of prayers wrapped in faith and sent with love are the greatest gifts we can receive."
