Sunday, September 12, 2010

Hebrew and Genetics and that tiny little pill

Much to my chagrin, today is the first day of that tiny little pill. The last time I took that little pill, ten years ago, it racked my body and made me both ill and rather insane. I am not looking forward to those affects and hope and pray that they will not come this time around. Along with dreading side effects, my heart has begun to feel the sorrow yet again. I have no idea what the next months of doctor appointments will bring for me and my knowledge of this little disease, but I do know that I would much rather not have any issues.

My genetics test is on September 23rd. I have talked with my aunties and gotten the information I need about their respective bouts of cancer. They are all alive, and it has been years since any of them has had any sign of cancer. I am not afraid of losing my life. I am not really even afraid of losing my ovaries. I am afraid of losing my ability, newly gained ability, to have children, and what that will do to my ability to marry, which again, is not even necessarily an ability I want. It's amazing how hard you can hold onto something you are not sure you want.

Hebrew is my heart. The flow, the rhythm, the dimensions, and depth of the words; I cannot escape my love for that language. Bryce is learning Hebrew and I am helping him. Watching that same love that is in my heart dawn on his face is so very sweet to me. That my dear friend can know and experience this deepest love of my heart is very powerful for me. I am having so much fun helping him and remembering so much of a language that once monopolized my life.

A very little moment of honesty: I would rather avoid my disease than deal with it. I would rather not know whether or not I have the cancer gene. I would rather just assume that Jesus was doing this. I would rather just be angry at him for ruining my life. I would rather just be a victim.

But I'm not a victim. And cancer gene or no, ovaries or no ovaries, I am a woman, but not a victim.

"Sing, O barren woman, you who never bore a child; burst into song, shout for joy, you who were never in labor; because more are the children of the desolate woman that of her who has a husband. Enlarge the place of your tent, stretch your tent curtains wide, do not hold back; lengthen your cords, strengthen your stakes. For you will spread out to the right and to the left..." Isaiah 54:1-3

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