I hope I learned a lesson about taking things for granted. When my mother-in-law was originally diagnosed with cancer, I was not too concerned. After all, my own mother had been diagnosed with the exact same cancer only seven years earlier. For my mother, she had a full hysterectomy and all other plumbing removed. She blew it off herself, telling doctors, "Not like I'm using the parts anyway." Then after her surgery, doctors tested her lymph nodes and reported the cancer had not spread, so luckily no radiation or chemotherapy was needed. Seven years later, she is cancer free.
Consequently, when my sweet mother-in-law was diagnosed with uterine cancer, I didn't think it was a big deal. I figured doctors would remove her uterus, tubes, and ovaries, and everything would be fine. Hence, back in March of this year, she had the operation. Doctors tested the few lymph nodes they had removed and reported back that the cancer had not spread, so she did not need to have any chemo or radiation. However, she did have some post-op issues, but most of that revolved around her age (80 years old) and her arrhythmia issues (atrial fibrillation and the use of blood thinners). Her six children decided to move her closer to town to be close to the hospital, as she did not want to move in with any of her children nor leave behind her beloved Camas prairie, where she had lived all her life.
Then less then two weeks ago, following some arrhythmia problems and periods of being lethargic, she was admitted to the hospital. However, a few days after being admitted, she began to complain of stomach pains and cramps. A CT-scan revealed a softball-size tumor in her belly and that the cancer had spread to her stomach. The oncologist gave her less then two weeks. Sadly, we were not afforded even that much time. On Sunday, we received a phone call from Ed's sister, Jodi. She told us to get to Idaho as quickly as possible as Mom's kidneys were failing. We threw together a few clothes into a suitcase, asked my mother to watch the dogs, and grabbed Joey, and drove eight hours to northern Idaho. Unfortunately, Steffen was still working at BSA Scout Camp and was unable to go with us. We arrived late Sunday night, and I am grateful she was cognitive enough to recognize us and talk to us briefly, because by Monday, she hardly woke up and when she did, it was heartbreaking to hear her cry out in pain and beat the bed with her fists out of frustration. Not once did she complain. Nope, not once. Then around 2:00 am early Tuesday morning, Margie took a walk with Jesus.
Lord, help me not to take things for granted and. . .