January 4, 2012
We’ve had a great Christmas and New Year’s. Our oldest son, Josh and his wife Emily came home from Pennsylvania. Family is good. They provide a comfort that no one else can.
We’ve been comforted by many others on this journey also. So many folks have told us of their fight with this terrible disease and their victorious emergence from it’s grip. Many have told me in detail. Graphic detail! I must say that I have experienced a lot of “breast talk” in the last few months. Don’t get me wrong. I think breasts are fine. I’ve just never discussed them with women. Until now. Please understand, most all of these stories have been very beneficial to our situation. However some have been a little awkward. I was about to begin a worship service not long ago at a really great church. The crowd was gathering and I was tuning my guitar. An older lady approached me on the stage. She was dressed nicely and was very elegant in her appearance. As she got closer, she placed her hands under each of her breasts, literally jiggled them up and down a couple of times and said to me, “How do these look”?.............Uh…........Uh….... Uh…............Uh!
I have never been at a loss for words. My brain usually has something on reserve to share with my mouth at a moments’ notice. But this day, my brain said, “Hey, you’re on your own, I’m outta here”! And I really was on my own! No one came to rescue me. Those standing around me strangely disappeared. The pastor crawled under a pew! I couldn’t move and I couldn’t speak. I thought, “So this is how I will die, not by disease or accident but by embarrassment.” I find embarrassment is a very slow and agonizing way to go out. It’s like watching the Cowboys in a play-off game. You’re thinking, “Will this ever end?” She went on to tell me how that she had experienced breast cancer some twenty years ago. She had beaten the odds and God had rescued her life. She had reconstructive surgery back then and she was still doing fine today. She wanted me to have hope. She wanted to encourage me in my time of despair. It was a wonderful story, just a really strange introduction. I don’t remember what I sang that morning, or if I sang. I don’t remember exactly what the end of the service was like. But I will forever have burned, on the back side of my eye balls, the image of a uniquely sweet, wonderful lady, trying to bring comfort to my heart. “Thank you ma’am, and by the way, ya’ll looked great!”
Here’s our request of all those who read this note. Tomorrow, January 5, at 9:30 am, Betty undergoes a heart scan to see if she can tolerate a drug treatment for the aggressive tumor that was found during surgery. If her heart contains a certain protein, then the drug that can bring about a cure could stop her heart during the administration of it and can’t be used. Please pray that the scan will prove negative for this protein, and we can began treatment immediately. Please pray for her specifically in this matter. Then we’ll take the next step. They come one at a time. Thank you for laughing and crying with us. Occasionally, we do both at the same time. Check back tomorrow and we’ll tell you where we are. Thank you for your help and concern. We love you all.