This is the day my worst fears were realized. Four years ago today. The day I found out that I had cancer—June 26, 2019, the day before my 37th birthday. This is my cancer story.
No one ever thinks they’re going to get cancer when they’re young. I certainly didn’t. Cancer in my 30’s? Yeah right. Maybe in my 70’s or 80’s, but not in my 30’s. How could I have cancer with two toddlers and a kindergartener running around at home?
I’ll never forget the details of that morning or the phone call I received. It was a Wednesday, and I was at the church with my two-year-old twins, Nate and Emma, and 5-year-old big brother, Thomas. We were there for the weekly drop-in play group a friend and I ran for parents and their young children. Today was a quiet day with just one other mom—a friend—and her son in attendance. The two of us were chatting while the kids played when my phone rang. I looked at the call display and it was a number I recognized as being from the hospital, so I picked up and walked down the hallway for privacy.
“Hello?”
“Oh, hi. Am I speaking with Christin?” the voice of an older woman asked.
“Yes?”
“I’m calling from the Tom Baker Cancer Center to let you know that you have an appointment on Monday, July 8 at 12:45pm.”
At the mention of the cancer center, my stomach dropped and I was filled with a sickening sense of dread and fear.
“What? So does that mean I have cancer?” I asked the poor woman, who had no idea she would be the one to break the news to me.
“Ah, well, I…I think you’ll have to discuss that with your doctor…” she stammered. “I’m just letting you know about your upcoming appointment.”
“Oh, okay,” I paused as I attempted to collect myself. “Let me put that in my calendar,” I said as she gave me instructions about where to park and where to check in when I arrived. I tried to focus on her words as the shock of this news shook me to the core.
I hung up the phone. Oh God, no, please no! I prayed. Fear filled me as I sunk to the floor. I tried calling my husband, the first person I wanted to share the news with, but I was sent to voicemail. This wasn’t the first time I’d been hit with this fear in this journey—the fear of dying, the fear of saying good-bye to my loved ones, the fear of leaving my children without a mother—and it wouldn’t be the last.
After breathing a prayer for strength and courage, I prepared myself to re-enter the play room and face my friend. Not being one to keep things inside, I shared the grim news with her, but her response wasn’t at all what I expected.
“I’m really sorry to hear that, but you know, my brother had cancer when he was 32, and he beat it. He’s been cancer-free for over ten years now,” she shared matter-of-factly.
“Really?” This was one of the first survivor stories I’d heard. As she told me more about her brother, a glimmer of hope began to grow in my heart.
Though the official confirmation of cancer came on this day in June, my journey actually began five months before. It was January and the twins would be turning two in March. Since they’d been born, the days had been non-stop, exhausting and overwhelming. I’d just passed through an especially challenging time and was enjoying the first few days of reprieve when one evening while watching TV, I put my hand on my left forearm and discovered a lump that felt like a small marble. My immediate thought was, Hmm…that’s strange…This could be bad...
This is just the beginning of my cancer story and one day I hope to share more of it, my story of the ups and downs of diagnosis and treatment, of fear turned over to the One who conquers all fear, of the triumph found in Him. But until then, let me leave you with this passage that sums up what the Lord did for me:
I sought the LORD, and he answered me;
he delivered me from all my fears.
Those who look at him are radiant;
their faces are never covered with shame.
This poor man called, and the LORD heard him;
he saved him out of all his troubles.
Psalm 34:4-6
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