Turbo Cancer: Day 171 - November 29, 2022
God's Hand
This day, last year, was a little bit better than the days before.
My mom’s physical condition hadn’t changed. Her engorged leg and her cracking bones had kept her immobilized. She was still confined to her room and to her bed. Her pain still existed.
However, on this day, she was better able to deal with it. She was able to accept the condition of her life.
Maybe that was a result of the Fentanyl.
Maybe it was a testament to my mom’s strength and resolve.
To me, it felt as if it had been a direct gift from God.
In the morning, my mom said that she hadn’t been able to sleep. She said that she had spent the night praying. She prayed for God to be with her .
When she told me this, she had the wide, innocent eyes of a child. She reached toward me and touched my face. She said “God is always right in front of us, holding out his hand. We just have to grab it.”
It was a peaceful day.
Aunt Linda came to visit, along with my cousin Terry, who had travelled from Virginia. My mom was awake and alert and able to feel all of the love that surrounded her.
I know that hers had not been the only prayer that night. All of the people who loved her were praying for mercy.
In her life, my mom openly professed her love of God, and in return, she had been loved. God could not stop her suffering. She was meant to suffer in the way that she did. It was a part of her story. I feel certain that turbo cancer had always been her destiny.
The story of my mom’s illness and of the medical field’s response to it is unbelievable. I am unable to fully explain it.. Therefore, I have been writing it down. For two years, I have been writing. I have been questioning: “Why did my mom have to go through all of that? Why did she have to suffer in that way? Could she have done something differently, and avoided her fate? Or did her pain have a greater purpose?”
I have come up with dozens of possible answers to those questions. Some readers have made comments that have taken me down different avenues of thinking. Of all of the theories I have considered, the one that resonates with me the most is this:
She had lived her story, so that I could tell her story. My role was that of a witness and of a scribe. My mom’s suffering has the potential to expose the corrupt and malevolent force that our medical system has become.
God did not remove her suffering. He was, however, there with her. He was by her side, holding her hand, stroking her hair, and filling her with words of comfort and grace. Over the course of her sleepless night, while she prayed, she realized that he had been there all along.
Throughout life, even at the hardest of times.
Even in the moments of intense, profound, unendurable pain.
He has always been there, waiting to be recognized.
Waiting for our eyes to be opened.
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I spent the weekend reading your story. Throughout, I was thinking about how to thank you. You're telling of your mother's story inspired me. I agree, I think there is an EVERYMAN aspect to it. At least for me, so much that has happened/is happening to you has happened to me. The example of your mother is inspiring in itself. I loved all the smiling pictures of your mother. Seeing the pictures and hearing her continued resolve to be strong, feel gratitude, and persevere with a loving heart made me want to be like her. But the *you* part of the story was just as powerful. Your thoughts about things, your ideas, your incredible ability to write.... these things were equally inspiring to me. It made me want to smile like your mother, and name and push back on all the bad things happening RIGHT NOW like you. You're telling your own story spoke to me as deeply as You're telling of your mother's story. This was/is a huge project. Thank you SO MUCH for taking it on. I hadn't realized how much I needed to ruminate on ALL THESE THINGS until I found myself absolutely mesmerized by your story. I was surprised and happy to see this new day. I felt like I understood you're leaving your story where you did, but I had wondered what happened next. I will happily report typos, if I see them in the future. I believe this will be a powerful book.
I'm very touched by your story, too, Kristi. Your honesty, thoughtfulness and boundless love for your mother shine through. We need to know how terribly people were harmed and how much they've suffered and continue to suffer as a result of this holocaust. Thank you!