I thought that 2016 would be the “year of no surgeries,” but
alas that was not to be. I am home this
week recovering from what I am hoping will be the last of the surgery-fest that has been my life for the past three years
since my cancer diagnosis. The good news is that this round was not related to
any newfound tumor, thank God. In 2013 I
endured my first surgery that lasted 9.5 hours to remove the three cancerous tumors
from my colon and liver. Before this I had never been under anesthesia before!
Three months later in January of 2014 I had a surgery to remove my ileostomy bag
and reconnect my colon…another lovely four days in the hospital. In September
of 2014 I had surgery to remove the cancer that had now spread to my lung (another
miraculous success). In June of 2015 I
had the joy of having a simple outpatient surgery to remove the port that had
been the pathway for all the chemo drugs injected into my body for the previous
two years. In order to celebrate being
cancer free, I began training for a triathlon and a half marathon and while
riding my bike along the coast, I crashed and tore my ACL, resulting in two
months of limping and knee surgery in December of 2015. Seriously, even though
all these surgeries were successful, the recoveries were brutal. And even
though the recoveries were tough, my body was strong and resilient, and I made
it through every time. And why is that?
Because an infinite God, who created the universe and spoke stars into
existence, who knows each person by name, is an intimate God who is by my side
and who gives me my strength.
Last week, surgery number six happened due to the massive
incisional scar from my first cancer surgery. Over the past three years, I
accrued scar tissue, an abdominal hernia, and weakened intestinal walls. This
surgery was to repair all that, leading to four uncomfortable days in the
hospital, but now I am home and recovering quickly and well. I was anxious and
had to say many prayers and seek God’s Word as I prepared to go back under the
knife. I knew I would be in the hospital again, and after three years of
appointments, probes, scans, infusions, and surgeries, a hospital is not a
happy place for me. (Is it a happy place for anyone?) I have gotten to the
point where the smells, especially of saline and plastic, stir up a true
anxiety in me and make me physically sick. The sounds-- the beeping of all the
instruments, the announcements over the intercom, the constant interruptions,
the coughing and the moaning from other patients….it all stirs up sickening
emotions and fears. I pray, I breathe in and out, I listen to soothing music, I
read God’s Word, I sleep fitfully, but it is all a whirlwind of creepy, crawly
fear. I do all the things I am “supposed” to do. I think about all I am
grateful for. I thank God that I have
health care. I thank God that I have respected surgeons. I thank God for my
friends and family. I thank God that he chose to keep me alive despite my dire
diagnosis. I do all these things to refocus myself and it all still comes back
to real fear, real anxiety, real pain, real struggle. And then, I have moments
of relief. And rest. And refuge. I am reminded that God is by my side no matter
how many times I take back my surrender, no matter how many times I return to
fear, no matter how many times I return to anxious thoughts.
Why am I sharing all this? Why am I rehashing my three years
of pain and struggle and reliving all the surgeries and recoveries and anxiety?
Because when I return to my pain, when I recall my struggle, I am pointed back
to the Savior. During my trials, it has not been in my strength that I have
recovered, but because of His power and His strength. Yes, I am a survivor. I
am a stage four metastasized cancer survivor. I am a walking miracle. But all
the glory goes to God. He is my ultimate healer. He has brought the surgeons
and doctors and nurses who treated me into my life. He has some crazy reason
for why He wants me on earth a little longer. I am always in awe how God uses
people. I am vulnerable, weak, fearful, anxious and controlling. And God still
adores me. He wants me to love others. He accepts me for who I am and he
forgives me every time my doubts and fears creep in. He reminds through his
promises in His Word that I am chosen, loved, forgiven, and accepted. He reminds
me I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. He points me to
the cross and says, “Dear Kirsten, it is done.”
2016 did not end up being the “year of no surgeries.” But it
did end up being another year of life. I will endure another recovery. I will
be strong again. I will live each day with joy and gratitude. Not because I am strong
and good. But because Jesus is. And He abides in me.
“But each day the Lord pours his unfailing love upon me, and
through each night I sing his songs, praying to God who gives me life.” Psalm
42:8
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