I haven’t blogged much because I’m trying to write a book and spend my limited writing time working on that instead. I was just editing the skimpy bits I do have and ran across this paragraph. It might seem random, but I really, really feel compelled to post it on here. So, this is me posting in faith that it will encourage someone(s). Is it you?
Dr. Rassam assumes we know that stage 4 breast cancer is a death sentence so doesn’t announce it initially or soften the blow. For Yaacov’s sake I have to ask. He confirms that it’s not curable, treatment is just to make me as comfortable as I can be, for as long as possible. Then he tells me 3 potential ways I might die. One involves hospice, which I’ve never heard much about. I could go there to be a burden to someone else while I die. They could prop me up and put makeup on me for the kids to visit after church on Sundays. Then one day, instead of visiting me at hospice, they’ll re-route the car and head to the gravesite. I imagine that one day, after I’ve grown accustomed to functioning with a broken heart, this will sound pleasant to me. It will be a relief to have the freedom to writhe in pain and drool on myself without having to protect the girls from witnessing it. Because they’ll be at home starting life without a burdensome half-dead shell of a being. They’ll have more days spent without me than with me, but the days we have together before hospice will be the good ones. Today I’m still trying to steady myself from feeling perfectly healthy when I learn the countdown to my last day has begun. Today, hospice sounds worse than torture and I tune out from listening to the other ways I might die. My mind wanders to Hezekiah, who prayed that God would extend His life, and God answered that request. I’m not sure if this is oversimplifying things, but it seems like He loves my girls enough to give them a mom for a few extra years. Could faith be that easy? Maybe. I think it’s time to start praying for that instead of reading reviews of local hospices.