I had an appointment yesterday with my oncologist.
Routine.
The pet scan back in June was clear.
The best news I could get over a year after my cancer ordeal.
I've been feeling good about myself.
Getting stronger every day.
Everything was normal at the office.
A minimal wait.
Friendly, helpful people being very kind.
I was reading my latest book to pass the time.
After a few pleasantries my doctor said,
"There's this lymph node on your scan that I'm a little concerned about."
My countenance fell and my heart started beating fast.
I could feel heat course through my body.
He noticed my distress.
He said,
"It's in your chest close to your esophagus.
It's probably fine,
but I'm going to go back to my office and compare it with your scan from a year ago."
Oh my word the thoughts that came crashing into my mind.
I will most likely have to start treatment all over again.
He was gone for about fifteen minutes.
I started praying that God would quiet my mind and still my quaking body.
I began to tell myself the truth...
God is absolutely sovereign over my life.
He loves me.
He has provided everything I need now and into eternity
in the person and work of my Lord Jesus Christ His Son and my Savior.
Right now in this tiny examining room He wants me to trust Him.
Soon the door opened and the doctor was back.
This is the one that planned all of my radiation treatments
and kept a diligent watch over me.
Yes, the one that looks exactly like my twelve year old grandson Harry.
"I got one of the other doctor's to look at it and he thinks it is fine but...
I want the main radiologist to check it to be sure.
I'll let you know what he says."
Okay, bye.
Only God knows how long I will have to wait to hear back from him on this.
I came home and told Bubba.
He encouraged me to stay strong and keep telling myself the truth.
I got to work finishing up with the Monday laundry.
At about 6:30 last night my phone rang.
It was the doctor.
He said,
"All is clear on the lymph node on your scan.
The radiologist said there was nothing to worry about."
I couldn't thank him enough for that call.
He is a good, good doctor.
I don't have to go back to him for six months.
The longest I have gone without being checked.
By the time the doctor called I was calm, cool, and mostly collected.
God had heard my prayer in the examining room.
He helped me through the anxiety and brought me to perfect peace.