The Last Word

As I was laying on my hospital bed with the worst sick feeling overwhelming my body the oncologist walked through the room door and proceeded to inform me the worst news, I had ever heard in my life, the test results and probability of survival.  I turned to look at my mom and then back to the doctor.  I felt like everything stopped for a second as I tried to take in a breath.  It felt like an outer body experience where I was looking from the outside in to the room.  I came back to the current moment and regained my focus as the oncologist started to spell out the exact type of cancer I had and the details of my type of cancer diagnosis which included an almost non-existent survival rate.  Once I heard the news, I literally went into a state of denial and would not accept the prognosis.  This cannot be true I thought to myself  and I was not willing to acknowledge it as my truth. Because I was facing my mortality like I have mentioned in previous blogs, the doctor asked the hospital clergy to visit with me at my bedside before I would be administered my first chemo treatment.  In addition, he decided to have the social workers visit with me to get my legal affairs in order.  All these actions were reasonable and part of the process for my type of diagnosis, but I felt like they were making the decision for me at that moment.  They were deciding that I wasn’t going to make it.  This did not sit well with me.  Although, logically, I know they meant well and it was necessary steps that need to be taken.  My emotional side was not happy with their actions because even though they are professionals and handle life and death on a daily basis, this was not just another case, for me this was my life.  Even though  I verbally said I accepted what they were saying to be medical facts and that would conclude in my death.  I was not willing to accept it in my heart.  I knew that no matter what the doctor said, the clergy said, the social workers said, whatever anyone said, it didn’t matter to me.  In my heart, I knew that God will always have the last word, despite medical reports and facts.  I turned my thoughts and prayers to God and asked HIM to Save Me. 


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