Running my race against cancer was the longest race and most difficult race I’ve ever encountered. There were many roadblocks while seeking treatment, but I soon found that the race against cancer was definitely a relay race that everyone in my circle would share.
After finding a painful lump in my breast, I was referred for a mammogram. The doctor called a few days before Thanksgiving to tell me to find a surgeon. It was apparent that she was giving me the task of finding a surgeon on my own. Therefore, I immediately interjected during our phone conversation, that I wanted referrals. But no matter whom I called after Thanksgiving, I would have to wait until after Christmas to be seen.
I instinctively knew that if I had cancer, cancer would not wait. I had learned from my father’s untimely death that I had to tackle cancer with all I had and as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, each door I tried slammed tightly even before getting through to the other side for a diagnosis. It wasn’t long before I gave up trying, but my daughter who sensed my despair soon found a surgeon who would see me within two weeks.
Three days after Christmas, in the midst of my entire family’s holiday visit, my fears were confirmed. I had breast cancer! Of course we cried a thousand tears and prayed a thousand prayers before the long road of treatment began.
Five years later I am still here, and I will be forever grateful for God’s grace, family, and the doctors who assisted me in my race against cancer.