I had my sentinel node biopsy on Tuesday. The surgery went well. The preliminary reports looked clean, so I only had to have two nodes removed. I woke up from the anesthesia much easier, for which I was thankful. I did have a little nausea, but not bad. Once I ate some jello, it went away.

I am having more pain with this procedure. My stomach doesn’t take too well to pain meds, so I’m getting by on Tylenol and ice. I did get a bit of a scare. Before I left the hospital, I noticed tingling in my thumb. I mentioned it to the nurse who told me to call the surgeon in the morning if it didn’t get better. By the time we got to the car, my pointer finger was going numb, and by the time we arrived home, my middle finger and my palm tingled. The word lymphodema popped into my head.

Of course, with Google, I looked up what this might mean, and it didn’t sound good. For one woman, it lasted for months and cause her to need physical therapy. I just prayed and prayed about it. That was a complication I didn’t want to face.

When I woke up on Wednesday morning, I realized the tingling was gone. Completely. I was worried that with typing, it might return. It didn’t and it hasn’t. Praise the Lord for prayers answered before they were even prayed. Another example of his goodness to me.

I continue to await the final biopsy report. I should have that early next week. The oncotype is still out, so I’ve had to reschedule my orientation with the radiology oncologist. The only time they had available: the day Alyssa was scheduled to get her braces off. I hated to break the bad news to her. Bless her, she was so forgiving about it. She has no problems waiting an extra week. What a wonderful daughter. She may deserve Culver’s after that appointment.

The waiting continues. I’m anxious to get going with the treatment. Thank you all for the prayers and well-wishes. Last weekend I went to the cabin to finish work on my book due June 1. Being alone there gave me time to read, pray and think. This week has been better emotionally. Next week is light on appointments (yay!), so I can concentrate on my book and on Brian’s high school graduation.

Life goes on, doesn’t it? I still have my jobs and my family responsibilities. Brian will graduate high school in two weeks (O.K., that’s crazy to write). Normalcy surrounds me, and I like that. For a while, I’m not a cancer patient. I’m Liz. The author, the wife, the mother, the sister, the daughter. Groceries need to be bought, bathrooms need to be cleaned, laundry needs to be folded. And that’s good.

The American Cancer Society has been calling. I’ve been ignoring them 😉 Not that they don’t do great work with certain people. But I’m blessed to have a wonderful family, dear friends, and a network of fellow believers. Support group? I go to one every Sunday morning. It’s called church. I know women who have gone through this, who are there to help answer questions and lead me through this medical maze.

I’m not minimizing what organizations like them do. There are women not as blessed as I am who need a hand. The research they help fund is invaluable. It’s why I have a great chance of being cured. But they aren’t for me. Not my scene.

I’ve heard Christianity referred to as a crutch. In simple terms, I suppose that term is appropriate. I am broken and can’t walk through this life alone. Christ is my “crutch”, my support, my aid in this journey. I’ll proudly use God as my crutch. 

The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? the Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? Psalm 27:1