One year ago I met the surgeon who eventually took this cancer out of me. That was a very long, very strange day. A year ago, it was on a Wednesday, in Lent, so we knew that we had services that evening. Jen and I decided we should have a friend go with with us, a retired doctor, to help process some of the stuff that would be said. This was a good plan, because the surgeon was running late, three and a half hours late, and Jen had to go back to worship before we got in to see her.
In fact, Jen only met her once, for about 1 minute right before the surgery. The rest of the time the doctor would come after Jen had left.
But for me, the most important part of this day, and what I truly celebrate, is that this doctor was the first one to use the word "treatable" with me. Before this there was no talk about being treatable, only what we would do for treatment. She told me I was in the top 20% of the people she saw, and it was treatable. I remember leaving that meeting and just floating because there was such a sense of hope.
A year later I am so grateful for this doctor, and as much as I love her, I hope to never go to her office again. She is gifted and gives hope, and a true blessing I will always treasure.