We’re Going Into Overtime People!

by Leah Dickinson

 

 

August 28, 2008

Dear Diary,

Dr. S told me I wouldn’t live to see my 39^th birthday today. Why me? Why again?

Why, Why, Why? 

God, where were you when this happened?  WHERE ARE YOU now? Why would you do this to my children? They aren’t even going to remember me.

Signed,

A lost soul

 

Experience.

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer at 27 I knew I would survive.  There was no question in my mind.  Perhaps it was because I was younger and invincible or maybe because I didn’t have kids yet. But this new death sentence, this was different. According to my doctors, my heart was failing because of the chemo I took five years prior.

Did you catch that?  FAILING.

What an awful word to hear.  I mean, I had gone to the doctor because I thought I had asthma. I thought I would walk away with an inhaler and instead I was wheeled out of the hospital a week after being resuscitated.  My body was turning on me, again.

I had been given a time limit.  It’s unthinkable.  I wouldn’t live to see 40.  My kids weren’t going to remember me.  My kids weren’t going to remember me!  I couldn’t shake that awful thought.  I was more debilitated by this notion than the actual heart issue that was killing me softly. 

My sweet boys were toddlers at the time. I would watch them play from my bed and sob. At this point, my failing heart and the strong meds forced me to sleep 18 hours a day. It was like watching a movie, I felt like an outsider looking in. I longed for silly tickle fights or to chase after them, catch them and giggle. But I couldn’t.  It’s something that no mother should ever have to feel.

So I froze up. I withdrew.  I got angry.  I escaped in unhealthy ways. It wasn’t pretty.  I was so focused on dying that I wasn’t living.

Strength.

God can handle all our anger, all our fear.  All of it. It took me a while to figure it out but once I did, it was so freeing.  During the following months, I drifted further and further away into a sea of sadness and despair.  I’m stubborn, y’all.  I mean, He healed me of breast cancer (and my mom too) and I still didn’t trust Him. I wasn’t willing to surrender.

To make matters worse, my marriage quickly headed south after I was diagnosed. WAY south. My core was shaken and my soul was stirred. What a gunky, heavy, empty, miserable pit. I remember falling to my knees and crying out in desperation…this is it? This is our new life? How could you do this to our kids? I had lost all hope. If you’ve been there you know what I’m talking about and if you haven’t, I hope and pray you never have to go there.

The good news is even though I wasn’t able to seek Him at this point or see any light whatsoever, God was there waiting all along and His plan was in motion.  To this day, I often visualize God’s giant yet gentle arms cradling my lifeless body and scooping me up as I laid in the downward dog position bawling crying, in shackles and gasping for air. He had me, I just hadn’t figured it out yet.

Hope.

God is present everywhere.  No matter how big or small the situation or how far apart from Him you have grown, He’s there and can handle anything you dish out. Just close your eyes and imagine a massive pummeling bag dangling from the heavens and go for it…punch it. Boom! Let ‘er rip. I get goose bumps thinking about how mighty He is.

Over the coming months, I’ll share heartbreaking, uplifting and amusing tales of how I managed to trudge out of that dark, deep place toward the light. I hope that by sharing my story, your trek will be lessened and you’ll laugh at little while we’re at it.

Today IS the first day of the rest of our lives. I’m gonna live mine OT style – sometimes frolicking, sometimes trudging. And the best part about it is I’m not alone. I never was and I never will be.