Where were you?

April 10, 2014.Reading time 5 minutes.

Where were you when you first heard the sound? Good sounds – your husband’s voice, your baby’s giggle, the words “I love you?” Do you remember? Can you picture the scene and surroundings?

I experienced a condensed courtship with my wife because I was briefly called back to service during Desert Storm. I don’t recall the first expression of the four- letter L word in our relationship. I know it came, and stuck. I have said it to her every day for nearly twenty-two years. I say it every night to my girls and sometimes in front of other people, much to their chagrin.

I wish I remembered the first time I said it, though.

I will never forget the first time I heard the word Cancer as it related to my family. I was in the hospital just a week ago when it was introduced to me, while my little girl lay sleeping nearby. The doctor actually used the words “oncological event” before I made him dumb it down for me. Cancer.

I held my wife in my arms as she collapsed into a puddle. Doesn’t cancer affect other families? Why would he be saying this word? I felt an instant dislike for this man, but my mind clouded to nothing. My wife’s head heaved in my chest. I couldn’t think in more than three word bursts. I have no idea how long we stood that way. I was roused only by the sound of a man pushing a cart way down at the end of the hall. The wheel squeaked as he carried out his task and I remember thinking, “How can he be pushing that? Doesn’t he know? It doesn’t matter where that squeaky cart is! Why isn’t he stopping?”

It was then I realized this isn’t everyone’s diagnosis. It is Kylie’s and ours: our family’s, our friends and network of support. But the rest of the world will continue to march on around us.

I will add a link to Kylie’s Caring Bridge at the end of this post because I won’t allow cancer to dominate my writing. It will peak its evil head in from time to time, I have no doubt. But I won’t allow it to take over my life, steal my joy, soil my faith, or crush my little girl.

It took a while to determine the enemy. Until then, we’ve been punching at shadows. Now we start to take it out. We are at the beginning of a long road, but there is hope. Kylie knows what is going on, she is scared. We cried together and prayed. She has decided that this is happening because God must have a really big, great plan for her. I don’t know if I could have gotten to those words so quickly at twelve – she’s just chock-full of amazing.

The picture I added is one of Kylie as Annie in her school play a couple of years ago. She is an incredible actress and I can’t wait to see her on stage again.

Because our minds are reeling right now, the verse we’ve been holding onto is Romans 8:26

Likewise the Spirit also helps in our weaknesses. For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself makes intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered.

♦

Thank you for your prayers and words of encouragement, friends. I have to go now, the bell just sounded for round one…

http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/kyliemyers

Shaking Hands with your Urologist

April 8, 2014.Reading time 4 minutes.

My first experience with Dr. P was a week after we discovered our surprise forth pregnancy. I found myself seated uncomfortably on the metal table being interrogated by a very contemplative man half my height, but with an IQ obviously twice mine. He spoke with a fairly thick accent and seemed dubious of my procedure of choice.

Dr. P, “Missa Myers, you seem very young. How old are you?”

Me, “I’m thirty-four.”

Dr. P, “How old your wife?”

Me, “She’s thirty-three.”

Dr. P, “Oh, that very young. You sure you want this?”

Me, “Yes Doctor, I’m sure.”

Dr. P, “You know, this permanent. You might want reversal, but it maybe not work.”

Me, “I know. I’m sure.”

Dr. P, “Your wife sure? She know?”

Me, “Yes, she knows.”

Dr. P, “Okay, you sure. Just one more time I ask, because you maybe not go back?”

Me, “Dr. P, we just found out we were pregnant with our fourth child.”

Momentary pause for contemplation.

Dr. P, “Oh. In that case, why you not come see me sooner?”

He checked a box on his form and left. The procedure came a few weeks later. I’ll mention no specifics except to say that once I was prepped and ready, the quiet, secluded corner room seemed to turn into Grand Central Station. Nurses, accountants, inspectors, magazine vendors, interns, dog walkers, board certifiers, and I think a few pharmaceutical sales reps all of the sudden had important business in my room. Finally the good doctor came and did his work. I left hoping to never see Dr. P again. No offense, but I thought seeing him again meant a fifth bundle of joy. I was wrong.

My second trip to see him came after experiencing some discomfort during a long run. Until then, I had no idea that Urologists did everything! When I went back to the very same room, there sat my friend, Dr. P. who remembered me distinctly.

“How your baby?” Dr. P asked.

Me, “She’s doing great. Six years old now.”

Dr. P, “How old are you?”

Me, “I just turned forty.”

Dr. P, “You know, Missa Myers, we start thinking about prostate health at this age…”

I’ll leave the rest to the imagination. Based on my experience with Dr. P, I have some advice for men.

First, when your Urologist asks you your age, consider carefully the ramifications of the question.

Second, when you are greeted by your friendly Urologist, remember that his hands have been places that my dog’s nose only dreams about.

I poke fun at my interaction with Dr. P, but men’s health issues are not a laughing matter. Fortunately, I only had a couple of kidney stones that were easily blasted out. Get checked when it is time to get checked, men. Others are counting on you!