Some memories are unpalatable and hard to digest. There are some periods I never wanna look back on nor relive. Until now, seeing my daughter’s old biopsy surgery scar gives me the chills. But unfortunately, this week, she had to undergo a battery of tests again after feeling weak. Two of the major blood works revealed a score that was quadruple the normal baseline. Talk about a kick in the gut. The burden of waiting for results is always the hardest. Yes, I am afraid! And there’s always this nagging feeling—is it my fault?!
Louise was a sickly child and seeing images on my head of her under treatment make my stomach churn. We have passed the challenging periods (or so I thought), and I hope the powers that be are kind enough to never make us relive them…yet here we are, awaiting 2-D echo/heart imaging results. As much as I wanna forget, looking back is essential because we are who we are precisely because of our history. My daughter was given this mountain to show her (and me) that it can be moved.
Her bout with Rhuematic Heart Disease and Sydenham’s Chorea when she was 8 in 2011 has made her a seasoned pro when it comes to hospitals, labs, CT scans, MRIs, 2D echos, needles, and the sight of blood. As her most constant companion in all of those, I don’t think I ever got used to or will ever get used to this, especially seeing them poke her with needles.
In 2014, at the age of 11, she had another scare when a giant lump appeared on her neck. She needed a biopsy to check for malignancy. When she was told that this procedure was a kind of minor surgery, she said: “Oh, wow my first surgery!”
I only saw a fleeting hint of fear. Her eyes became glassy with unshed tears for a second, but when she blinked, they were gone as fast as they came. She was determined and declared, “Okay whatever’s needed.”
She was told by the surgeon that she would be asleep the entire time. And her only concern was, “Mom, I move a lot when I’m asleep. I might kick her (the doc)!”
The doc chuckled and said, “Don’t worry about me. Even your hair will be asleep!” We all had a good laugh.
My daughter later on asked me why she always got sick. Frankly, I asked the same question too. I know a lot of meaner people who need this kind of smack more than this innocent little girl. But forgive me, we shouldn’t really wish ill on others no matter how deserving we think they are.
Since it took me awhile to reply, she proceeded to answer her own question, “Maybe because God wants us to know that He is with us. And we are in good hands no matter what.”
Her statement really showed me how all the aches and pains she went through made her strong, mature, and far wiser beyond her years. We are indeed in very good hands with Him. Ironically, it is usually in suffering that we feel closest to Him.
Thankfully, her lump turned out to be not cancer. But the agony of waiting for that declaration was nerve-wracking to say the least.
Right now, 2018, I feel the same way as we await the doctor’s verdict. But if there’s one thing I have learned—never to let go of His hand, especially during trying times. Always trust that He is leading us where we are meant to be. Keep the faith and hold onto hope! Everyday is already a gift.