She is in surgery this very day, removing the cancerous
breasts and awaiting replacements. She has had a long fight being nearly 6
months since diagnosis and today is the day she wills herself to part with the
old and unite with the new. The question comes as I suspected it would -“Do you have any advice?”
Every single time I hear this question, my stomach rolls a
bit in anxiety and fear of what to say or what not to say. I've eluded to it once before (link to post) when asked what I would tell someone facing
the choice of prophylactic mastectomy. That question in that scenario is tough enough, but the
question carries a different scenario and meaning when asked by someone with cancerous
breasts. It’s like comparing apples to orangutans on several dimensions, but you also realize in a side note that the similarities are there. Removing a breast is removing a breast when it comes down to it. But one being
removed in preventative choice carries a different vantage point than those removed
in a reaction to a diagnosis. I won’t go into greater detail here for sake of
key stroke, but it’s different…and the same…and different.
Since the question keeps arising from various scenarios
I feel as though I need to get past the anxiety of providing a response. It’s
not that I don’t know all the caveats in and out of my own thoughts around the
procedure, it’s that I fully recognize my words may be utterly
misguiding and useless to someone else in a different or even similar circumstance. I could tell you to go this very minute and purchase a foam wedge
for your bed so you may find some comfort when trying to sleep with 4 drains in tow, but you may find that is a useless purchase. Or I could advise
you to not look at the scars early on as healing and a drastically improved appearance
come with time, but you may find that inspecting them in great detail the day
after surgery may be the one thing you need to do in order to move forward. Or
I could tell you that post procedure you may find yourself weeping for no
reason at all, yet you yourself don’t shed a single tear. We are who we are and
we experience what we experience. But as I have said before, I know you will
experience SOMETHING, but what that will be exactly remains to be seen. And therein lies the
anxiety of useless advice. Maybe all you need is gentle reassurance. Or just a
presence of friendship. Yet the questions still come and therefore my anxiety
should be overcome for the sake of the one asking the question.
Surely there is some advice that would be applicable to all
that I could offer with the purest of intents and that will ensure some general
application of good will? For example,
you most certainly don’t want to clip your drains (that dreaded D word) to your
waist band. I feel positive you will find the wisdom in that advice the first
time you head to that bathroom, forget you have the drains clipped there, and then
pull your pants down. Everyone in the household at that very moment will also
remember that piece of advice given with the most sincere of intents. But even
this seems like strange advice on the day of surgery when you are simply trying
to get yourself through that OR appointment with sanity intact. What do you
need at that moment in time when you ask me that question????
As I search my heart and my experience, I recognize I have a great need to know people are there. Not only in kind words or prayer (I am very purposely
focusing on myself that I will never ever say “my prayers are with you” unless I truly intend to pray otherwise this is a slap in the face of God as well as to my
walk), but also an assurance of physical
proximity. There are times when you just need a smiling face or a reminder that
a dear friend is just a phone call away. That would be my advice to friends of someone
going through mastectomy. Don't say what you won't do, and do you best to be there in the first few weeks post procedure. Drop by with brownies. Offer to walk their dog. Show up with the lawn mower. Pull out the hose to water some plants. Send movies and books. And if she isn't up for visitors, which surely could be the case early on, drop a note in the mail or leave something on the doorstep, ring the bell, then go run hide in the bushes (fun for all involved!). I am the first to admit that this "action" of service is hard for me and it is something I am working on in present state, so I am trying to heed my very own advice here as a friend to others going through tough moments. So friends who are supporting someone through a moment, be the sincere kind of friend we would want to have in the same circumstance. Now, to the woman herself in mastectomy, after past reflection on my experience I would want to hear this
encouragement (I first heard these words recently at church and have since traced
them back to Casting Crowns): “We are not supposed to merely survive, we are
supposed to thrive.”
“We are not supposed to merely survive, we are supposed to
thrive.”
“We are not supposed to merely survive, we are supposed to
THRIVE.” I need to let that sink in. I need to mull over its goodness and grace
and realize this nugget of truth can be be applied to any and all events in life. Why can't I master this? I
spend so much of my time simply trying to get through a moment with all my appendages
still attached (survive) while I complain about its every second, doing nothing but watering
down its purpose and intent while simultaneously ensuring the misery of anyone
within ear shot of my words. I dig and I dig to get my head above the soil. I
spend each waking moment simply trying to survive. Then that is exactly where I
stop...after I have sulked it to death and made everyone else around me miserable. I complain and I survive. I've mastered that! I can only imagine how much better serving I would be if I
somehow managed to focus instead on not only the aspect of survival of each and
every event in life, but to also thrive! Can I find a way to let grace seep into all the nooks and
crannies of my experience and in turn find a way to make myself something more
useful and worthy of this breath of air on the other side? Could I not only survive, but thrive
into being more of what He wants me to be when all is said and done? What if I took
those words of complaint and instead magically morphed them into words of
testament of provision in the difficult times? What if I sought to find a way
to turn a downtrodden mess into an accolade of faith? What if every single time
I claimed it to be exactly what it was intended to be….an opportunity…to be
more…on the other side? I'm not saying our current moment is not hard, it is REAL and it is HARD. I've spilled many tears in mastectomy, and lymphoma, and heart break, and loss, and on and on. We still feel the struggle to our cores and we hurt beyond belief. Emotions will happen. And I’m not saying
this has to happen in real-time (though I fully believe it could for some), but rather
that this becomes part of the process of healing that happens as you go and as you grow. It's simply put an opportunity to redefine
pieces of myself that would, in result, propel me into breaking the shackles of
feeling “plagued, burdened, worried, anxious” (and this list goes on of all the
things we claim during hardship). THIS is who I want to be. A person who finds
a way to thrive. Mere survival is for those who have no hope, but look around
you at all the people who chose to thrive and find a way to get there. I think of a friend whose husband was killed by friendly fire while she was 8 months pregnant and how now she spends her time advocating for and with other military widows. Then of the mother who lost her 2 year old son to a diagnosis and now she had an annual golf event that raises thousands of dollars ($42,000 this year!) to give back to the cause. And the young girl, sexually abused, who grew up to open a school for ladies leaving the life of prostitution behind. Then the divorcee who now leads a support group in her home for young wives who find themselves alone. I dare
not attempt to define what this should look like for you, because I think it is
each to their own as seen in these tangible examples here, but I do know that when you purposely seek something out, it
has a way of finding you where you are. Being open to the concept of thriving
in and of itself makes it a possibility and thriving completely changes the outcome. It takes purposeful action and a willingness
to rise above circumstance and allowing Joy to find it's way back into your every day. It’s learning to find that silver lining and
letting it propel you into a better version of yourself….and it takes time. I'm still learning to thrive in each of my circumstances, but I am on the road moving forward all the same.
So this is my advice (albeit now admittedly borrowed from a
nationally known musician), find your way to not merely survive mastectomy (divorce,
loss, unemployment, financial woes, wayward children, infertility, etc.), but
to THRIVE in mastectomy. Whatever that may look like and in whatever timing
that may occur in for you do everything you can to get there…on the other side…a
better version of you. And when you are feeling lost in survival, grab on to someone who has traversed the road before you. They know the way. They can help get you to the other side. Then tag, you are it. Go thrive!
Psalm 143:8
Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,
for I have put my trust in you.
Show me the way I should go,
for to you I entrust my life.
