Joan's
Healing from Breast Cancer
by Walter Lee McElligott
Together, on our living room couch, Joan and I discussed the results of her initial mammogram. I sensed Joan's worry, as our dog, Max, snuggled between us. The stress of the news had overcome her usually poised voice. Joan anxiously said, "Everything went fine at the hospital." She then began to shed tears she had been trying hard to hide.
I took a deep breath, as she repeated the technician's words: "I believe we detected an abnormality on the mammography of the left breast."
Air rushed from my lungs like I had been punched in the chest. I could not reply. I had a single thought in response to this blow from my beloved: Lord, what had we done to deserve this?
Only later would I understand that we did nothing to deserve Joan's illness.
She added, "My films were sent for a specialist's evaluation. His office will call after he reviews the x-rays. We can only wait for his call."
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In 2004, about 216,000 women in the United States will be found to have invasive breast cancer. Another 40,000 women will die from the disease this year. Right now there are slightly over 2 million women living in the U.S. who have been treated for breast cancer. In light of this information, I'm thrilled to report Joan, my wife of 38 years, is one of those who won her battle with cancer.
Joan and I are Christians, but we have learned not to force our faith upon others. Throughout her illness, Joan refused to accept defeat. My own faith was severely tested around the time when Joan was waiting to undergo a biopsy.
In the days leading up to Joan's biopsy, Marge Charleston, Joan's prayer partner said, "I'll beef up the prayer group's Urgent Prayers already being said for you." These reassuring words for Joan continued to test my faith. I wondered: are these prayers going to the same God who didn't hear Joan's original request? I sure hope He is listening this time.
We entered an unfamiliar surgeon's office to learn how "worse" things might be. I held Joan's hand tightly as we rode the tiny elevator. As we left the elevator outside of the doctor's office, I let Joan's gentle hand slip away. I wondered: how long will I be able to hold that hand and feel the rings we swore before God and witnesses would forever bind us together?
I hoped the smile on my face comforted Joan. I know it didn't hide my worry. In the waiting room, I sat in a comfortable leather chair. Across from me, two mothers and their children ignored me.While waiting, I prayed: please Lord, cleanse Joan of whatever "spot" I'm sure they mistakenly found on her x-ray. Give me the strength to overcome whatever is happening to my loved one. I quietly added, only you, Lord, know what lies ahead for any of us. Please, be with Joan, no matter what this day brings.
Time passed. The two mothers and their children left. Alone in the office, I finished reading the few magazines without pictures of very pregnant women. I once more glanced at my wristwatch. Joan's birthday gift told me that only an hour had passed, although time seemed to have slowed to a crawl. My thoughts changed. I no longer felt a sense of minor annoyance over what was keeping her. Real concern began to settle in. My worry could only be compared to my experiences at the births of our son, Ken, and daughter, Karen. I again waited for Joan and her doctor, while fear raced through my mind. Maternity room thoughts reminded me of all that could go wrong. The helpless husband returned. I repeated a short prayer of long ago: Lord, please, let everything be okay!
It had been Joan who spoke to our son and daughter about her condition. Me? I couldn't even say the word "cancer," let alone comfort a young adult and teenager. I now realize that help is within easy reach of patients and families going through what we went through. However, that information somehow eluded me when Joan was diagnosed. Joan helped me forget my feelings of having failed at this task of talking to the children when she was ill. Back then, I simply didn't know what was expected of me. For men in this position, cancer treatment clinics now have several suggests for talking to children:
- Tell children what has happened, and what will happen next, leaving them with feelings of hope that even though their mother (and you) are upset now, there will be better times.
- Assure your children that they will continue to be loved and cared for.
- Listen to them. Let them ask questions, answer their questions simply.
- Correct any misinformation they may have.
- Talk about your own feelings as well as giving them information. You
need not go into great detail about the medical treatment, financial
concerns, or other areas that might generate anxiety.
- Don't make any promises you may not be able to keep. (Instead, say: "I think I will be able to…"or "I'll try to…")
A door opened and a nurse escorted out my wife, adorned in a white dressing gown. I joined them at the appointment desk encountered in what seemed long hours before. Joan glanced in my direction. Her face lacked its usual bright smile. A single tear rested on her cheek. She took my hand, and led me to the doctor's office, where he explained the next step: surgery. The wisdom of Joan's surgeon confirmed suspicious blemishes on her left breast. Though his Biopsy Schedule was very crowded with patients, he added Joan's name to an earlier operating room date.
On an early August 1997 morning, I was still recovering from my own injuries. My personal aide drove us to the hospital, where I nervously lingered in the hospital waiting room as Joan's surgical cart vanished into the operating theatre. My PA proved to be another of what I consider God's unexpected blessings. In addition to a chauffer, I needed someone to comfort my ragged nerves, especially after the surgeon announced he would move directly from the scheduled biopsy to removal of the confirmed cancerous lesions.
During Joan's lengthy procedure, my PA's prayers helped ease my racing heart. Soon, a wonderful peace replaced an awful fear. By early afternoon, Joan had recovered from the shock of her anesthesia and surgery. Now a nurse to both of us, my PA drove us home from the hospital. Joan was allowed several weeks to recover from the shock of the surgery.
In October, Joan's oncologist, Dr. Tomchuk, detailed his treatment plan for the lesions excised from her left breast. Or, as he defined it for us simple folks, "They safely removed as much of a 'baseball size' collection of cancerous tissue as possible." He advised us of how fortunate we were, that Joan got medical care quickly. He believed that her illness would have been much more serious had she postponed her operation to a later date. He was quite certain of Joan's complete healing through radiation therapy.
We were very happy to hear Dr. Tomchuk proudly say, "I'm a Christian, and I pray for my patients. The many years of records I keep reveal that my patients who believe in the power of prayer, along with proper medical care are most often healed of their illnesses."
Joan's radiation therapy began that day, and she received one treatment thereafter each weekday.
After her twenty-first radiation treatment, Dr. Tomchuk announced, "Joan is completely free of her cancer." He rescheduled her for a re-evaluation six months from her last treatment in November, 1998.
Joan's follow-up care has been reduced to an annual mammogram and visit to Dr. Tomchuk. She will be required, probably for the remainder of her life, to follow up with the cancer clinic. We just celebrated Joan's seventh year of healing of her cancer. I'm proud to every day hold the hand of a true miracle.
As the husband of a breast cancer survivor, I saw how prayer brought Joan through her cancer treatment. I still don't understand why a merciful God responds to some prayers, but seemingly doesn't respond to others. It is my hope that by advances in cancer research and treatment, more men will join that special assembly of cancer-surviving couples. Perhaps, one day soon, all men will celebrate their wife's triumphs over breast cancer. I wish for all cancer patients the kind of uplifting news that Joan's doctor was able to give us seven years ago.
I sincerely believe that God worked through our faith, and the prayers
of others, including her doctor to cleanse her cancer. With that belief
in hand, my wife and I daily send our prayers for every cancer sufferer.
It is our hope that each will be transformed into the cancer survivor
Joan has become.
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Walter McElligott is a freelance writer living in Suburban Chicago. He and his wife, Joan, a retired special education teacher, have two children and five grandchildren.