It's been four years and three months since I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, stage III-C.
That first year my slow recovery from debulking surgery (major surgery!) followed by six months of chemotherapy just about put me under. I was weaker than a newborn kitten for such a long time and recovery was slow. Each time I made a trip to the post office I had to climb 8 steps and then, returning to the car, climb down those same 8 steps. I carefully placed my hands on the handrail to steady myself for fear I might take a tumble. I stepped carefully and purposely.
Nowadays, even while undergoing yet more chemo, I walk up and down those steps with ease. I seldom use the rail. Frankly, I'm amazed.
But, still, every time I go to the Post Office I remember that weakness. And it humbles me that I am doing so well, all things considered.
I firmly believe that all my days are numbered, that God holds me firmly in His hands, that nothing happens to me that is outside of His providence (His provision) for my life. He has set me in a time and place where medical care is available and I diligently cooperate with my primary doc, my oncologist and a naturopathic doctor in trying to stay as healthy as possible. I am grateful for this time and place.
I thank God daily for each new day.