Time For Lap Number 69

 

It has been a heck of a year!

 Hard to believe that I am starting lap 69 this coming week.  This will not be my usual stream of consciousness, however, but a reflection on what has transpired during lap 68, and some reflection on what it portends for the coming year…

 

In April of 2022, we—I—lost someone very dear to me.  I have written previously about my sister-in-law, Mary Anne,  please read about that here.   There was more bad news to come.

Cancer.  There, I’ve said the C-word.

During a routine urological exam last spring, a blood test showed an elevated level.  Now, understand that I had been dealing with benign prostate enlargement for at least 15 years, and the medication used to treat that problem has an effect on the PSA levels of those who take it, so I’m used to some variation in those test results.  My urologist suggested that I get the test again in another month, so I did.

The result was elevated even more, but not alarmingly so. My urologist scheduled me for a biopsy as a precaution. 

The biopsy revealed that I did, in fact have prostate cancer.  It was a very low grade, and almost undetectable.  It wouldn’t have been palpable during a routine prostate exam. My doctor was more nervous about delivering the bad news than I was about hearing it.  We adopted the strategy of “watchful waiting”, and I went on about my life.

I was concerned, but not preoccupied, knowing that at some point a treatment would be needed, and that I had lots of options.

But that darned PSA level kept climbing!  The urologist ordered an MRI to get a better look and suggested that I see another urologist for a second opinion.  Both doctors said that surgery was my best—but not only—option.  The doctor asked what I wanted to do.  Keeping a watch didn’t seem like an option anymore.  A great calm came over me (more on this later), and I consented to the surgery.

I did not want to go through my Christmas holiday recovering from surgery, so I chose a date in January. 

I underwent laparoscopic radical prostate surgery about 10 days ago.  I’m recovering better than I expected, and things seem to be happening earlier than the way one is told it will go.

I have several months of recovery ahead of me, to be sure, but I’m off to a decent start. I have the best wife and family I could ask for, and valuable friends, all of whom give me all the support I need and then some.

That support has, as its source, my faith in God. 

 

Remember when I said previously that a great calm came over me?  Let me explain.

“You have cancer” are not words that anyone wants to hear.  It prompts all sorts of reactions, as many kinds as there are people who hear the “C-word”.  I am sure that I am not alone in reacting to the bad news by praying.   I had been trying very hard to simply turn it over to my Lord.  I prayed for guidance, healing, maybe even a miracle.  Jesus said,

“Whatever you ask in my name I will do,
so that the Father may be glorified in the Son.”  (John 14:13)

 

So, I asked!  I’m sure that there is a very good reason why I did not receive a miracle, and perhaps I will see it someday.  Or perhaps I will recover completely, much sooner than expected, who knows?  I don’t have the foggiest idea.  

But what I know, with absolute certainty, is that I will be healed completely.  No question. 

I have been the subject of prayer from groups of people I don’t know, and people I have known for years, from clergy and others as well.  It is the most humbling feeling to know that another person has gone to their God and asked Him to help you.  It is also a very warm, very peaceful feeling. I have come to believe in the power of prayer to “move mountains”.  Even medical researchers have quantified the effect on recovery rates of patients who participate in spiritual practices. 

 

This past year was the 50^th reunion for my high school class. 

Wow.

I was not sure that I would attend—after all, I didn’t like many of my classmates then, I wasn’t going to like them any better 50 years later.  But my brother spoke of his sadness that he missed his 50^th and talked me into it. 

High school reunions are strange events.  I couldn’t decide, expecting little, and even telling my wife that if I was not enjoying it, it would be an early evening. The good news is that we did attend, and I reconnected with friends I had lost touch with.  In fact, one of those friends has been a huge support for me in my surgery and recovery.  He and his wife might even help to make up for some of the support I once received from my sister-in-law.     

 

That, in a nutshell, was 2022, lap number 68.

What does this all mean for lap number 69? 

It means that I will spend the next year on focusing on the wonderful life God has given me!  Like George Bailey (Don’t you just love “It’s a Wonderful Life”?  See it on a big screen if you can, it’s a wonderful film!), I got distracted from what really matters.  It won’t happen again.   I’m pretty sure that some angel got his wings when that sunk into my thick skull.

Just one more thought:

Hard to imagine, but I am the patriarch of my family. My wife and I have three kids, all grown and doing well on their own.  We also have two good sons-in-law, and a daughter-in-law whom I love as if she were my own.  Our kids could not possibly have chosen better. 

And we have 7 grandchildren, ages 18 months to 13 years.  I often joke that I wish that I could have skipped raising kids and gone right to grandkids.  It is such a joy to watch them grow and change, sometimes it seems daily. 

In thinking more about my own mortality, I concluded that I am better served by living the life with which I have been so blessed. 

It’s the best way I can give thanks to God, so it is what I will do.

 

“The Lord bless you and keep you.
 The Lord shine his face upon you and be gracious to you.  The Lord look upon you kindly and give you peace.”

(Numbers, 6)