The definition of lump when viewed on Google: “a compact mass of a substance, esp. one without a definite or regular shape.” And it also says, “proceed awkwardly or heavily.” One of my favorite bands from my 20’s, i.e. before Salvation, made a song about Lump:
Lump sat alone in a boggy marsh
Totally motionless except for her heart
Mud flowed up in Lump’s pajamas
She totally confused all the passing piranhas.
I wish I could confuse some piranhas.
On Christmas night, after recovering from trying not to eat anything sweet and appeasing boys whose toys weren’t living up to the hype, I found a lump.
I won’t go into detail, but suffice it to say, I immediately went to the Hubs and said, “do you feel this?” “Yes,”, he said, after taking a moment to really decide if he wanted to tell me so. A lump. A palpable knot. A compact mass of substance. I then started thinking of women who would make suitable moms for my boys, and wives for Hubs, and tried not to think about the friends I’d had who’d lost their moms at a young age, and subsequently gone off the deep end. I was Debra Winger in “Terms of Endearment”, and I envisioned myself as funny but poignant in my last scenes with my children.
Well, life doesn’t usually imitate art. Hello. I’ve gone through the ultrasound and extra mammogram (I did have a mammogram this summer, which was negative), and am now about to go through a biopsy. I can’t help but pronounce it in my head like a movie character once said…”a bipobsee”. Only 1 out of 5 biopsies show cancer. So why is this lump bothering me?
Because it’s me. It’s my life. It’s not someone else’s. I am the one who will deal with any fallout from a positive (or in this case a “positive NEGATIVE result”). I have someone who has the same name as me that has been diagnosed and was on our SS prayer list; that still didn’t phase me. THIS phases me.
I have never felt fear like I did the night I felt the LUMP. The odds are that this LUMP is nothing. That it is a “mass” that has coagulated and palpable because I have lost 70 pounds, and would not otherwise be able to be felt. The odds are that I will not have to undergo any type of chemotherapy or radiation or both. The odds are that I will live to see my kids graduate and marry and have children. 80 percent chance of that.
But my heart goes out to those whose panic I have now had the unfortunate privilege to experience. I am not out of the woods, by any means. I will post more after the “biposee”. But my ultrasound tech told me that my “LUMP” looked like the rest of the tissue (which is a good thing), and my very recent mammogram was normal. But what if these tests aren’t? How will I respond? How will my family respond? The two oldest know that I have seen a doctor, and all they have talked about is “Are you pregnant?” and that they hope it is a girl. WHAT??? I disabused them of the notion that pregnancy was even an option, as carefully as I could, without divulging the whole enchilada; Hubs and I took care of the birth control issue permanently about 2 months after Caboose was born, because Hubs values my sanity.
But this experience has brought home the fact that I am not in control, and HE is. I have to give my whole self to Him, not me. His ways are not my ways, nor are His thoughts my thoughts. Even if He slays me, I will still have to praise Him. I am writing this to tell you that I am praying that no matter what happens, my ability to praise Him remains the most visible part of my Journey, and I am telling myself now, that no matter what this life brings, I am not a citizen of this world, but I have been adopted by the Creator of the Universe. Which means He created the LUMP that exists within me even now. Do you think He will let the piranhas know to ignore me, or will I learn that He is my Refuge from the piranha?