From Breast Cancer to Blessed Answer

A young man came into the waiting room and told me I was next. He saw that I was a wreck and probably knew this wasn’t going to be easy. He directed me to the changing room with lockers for your belongings while you were being scanned. Each locker had a key that was hanging on a keychain in the shape of a pink boxing glove. I got it. We’re women and we have to fight, but I really began to hate the color pink! I was trying very hard to be brave. I’ve heard it said that you don’t know how brave and strong you are until you have breast cancer. Well, I thought I was, but in reality, I’m a big chicken.

The nice technician called me into the room where the monster of a machine was. I looked at the MRI as if it were a giant beast waiting to have me for its next meal. I was shaking. The nice technician and I went back and forth a few times about how this procedure needed to be done.

First the technician, “It’s only 30 minutes, not bad”.

“SAYS YOU!,” I stammered.

“You know you need to have this done,” he returned, calmly.

I felt resigned to this fate, “Yes, I know.”

He sighs. I can tell he’s getting frustrated with me. It was the end of the day and I was probably his last patient. So many thoughts raced through my head…panic… “OK, I’ve got to do this” … “I can’t do this, but He can!” ... “I’m so scared” … “Trust God” … “I have to go to the bathroom, what if I lose it and go potty in the machine?”

God was tearing down the strongholds in my life and I needed to trust Him. How? I was so scared, and I knew I had to put feet to my faith and trust God. But how?! What does faith look like? It’s easy to say you believe in God, but to really, honestly put all you’ve got into trusting Him in a life or death situation is another. To me, this was a life or death situation. I think I would have preferred a firing squad over this MRI. However, I was adamant that I was not going to leave the hospital without doing this! There was no way I was going to make a second trip back here. I took a deep breath and followed the nice, but exasperated technician’s directions, and laid face-down onto a flat bed. I thought it was neat that it had breast-shaped concave forms, so I wasn’t uncomfortable lying on my stomach. The technician was very discrete opening my gown. He had it down to a science and never once was I disrobed in front of him. That being said, I’m very certain there are other things he would rather see than a hysterical, middle-aged woman’s cancerous breast!

Tim was allowed in the room at this point and he stood by my feet. The nice technician explained he would pull me into the machine and insert an IV into my arm. At that point he would start the machine and told me it was extremely noisy and that I must lie still. He then tried to put a set of sound canceling headphones on me, and I nearly jumped off the bed. The heavy headset made me feel even more caged in. I tried not to panic. Wanting to protect my ears the patient technician suggested I use earplugs.

This was really going to happen. As I was slowly moved into the machine, I tried to think about how God was with me. My arms were stretched straight out in front of me. When I was in place, an IV needle was inserted into my vein in my left arm.

Now at the controls that would slowly draw me into the tube of death, the nice technician told me he was going to begin. He wasn’t kidding that the MRI was loud. The only way one can hear what the technician says is through a speaker inside the machine. As I was drawn inside, I realized that God was filling that MRI with peace. Chaos seemed to reign outside, but inside God provided me with the peace that passes understanding. It was comforting to hear Tim as he told me stories to keep my mind occupied. Between the ear plugs and noise, I had no clue what he was saying, but I could hear his voice. I thought about how lambs know the voice of their shepherd. The Lord is my Shepherd. I praised God and thanked Him for helping me do this. I let go of the panic. I knew I needed to trust God.