I was driving to work along Interstate 20 when my wife’s picture popped up along with the ring on my cellphone.
I instinctively knew.
In a calm voice Sheila said, “the doctor called, and it is breast cancer.”
Exiting at the Pearson Road exit, I turned back east and headed home. No tears were shed, only that we agreed God would see us through this and we would deal with this new mountain to climb.
Little did we know what lay ahead for the next year!
I have learned over my career that you don’t skimp on several things, including lawyers, CPAs, and physicians.
We sought out the most highly recommended cancer surgeon around, Dr. Phillip Ley. I had admired his career from afar since much of my business career revolved around healthcare and I had heard so much about his surgical skills, his innovation in cancer surgery techniques, and his focus on patients.
All of the key markers from the very beginning were encouraging. We learned more about terms like “receptors,” “HER negative,” “estrogen positive,” “non-invasive,” and tumor staging. All of the tests returned with what you want to hear.
Then, things began to get complicated. Dr. Ley called early one morning while he was on vacation at the beach. “I’ve been looking at your case and think you would benefit from a new molecular study that we have found is helpful in treatment options for some women.”
The innovative test resulted in a recommendation that she have chemotherapy…. four infusions of a vicious drug…doxorubicin… (also known as “The Red Devil” because of its color and harsh side effects. This would be followed by sixteen rounds of Taxol, another toxic drug that is highly effective in breast cancer treatment.
And so, the journey began with visits to Jackson Oncology every two weeks for infusions of a cocktail of various drugs. All the usual side effects became the norm for Sheila, but she plowed through the eight weeks of dealing with “The Red Devil.”
And then, the complications began.
An emergency blood transfusion of two units of blood due to dangerously low red and white counts.
A two-month battle with shingles due to low resistance from the chemo treatment.
Successful breast surgery in late August, only to be complicated by her incisions not healing due to the ravages of treatment.
Skin graft surgery in early October after the incisions never healed.
Unlike me, Sheila does not like attention drawn to her. Sharing a cancer diagnosis opens your life to so many. Most are concerned, well-intentioned, and are dedicated prayer warriors.
Any privacy Sheila had was totally blown one Sunday at our church, First Baptist-Jackson. She refused to give in to any fatigue she had and continued to sing in our choir each week. One Sunday during our pastor’s sermon, I caught a commotion to my left in the alto section. People were moving quickly to respond to some emergency. It was then that I realized that Sheila was on the floor, surrounded by several doctors in our choir.
Several of the men carried her out...all within view of the 1,000+ in attendance, as well as a statewide television audience and a live stream over the FBCJ website. She had fainted from the heat and was OK…but so much for keeping things private!
But now for the good news…Sheila’s surgery and pathology reports revealed margins all clear, all lymph nodes clear, tumor completely gone, and her cancer was determined to be Stage 1, with a 95% ten-year survival rate.
Now, we are not naïve enough not to know that there are no guarantees. Within all of us lies rouge cells just waiting to be triggered by something to cause a problem. (We are fairly sure what triggered Sheila’s, but that is another story.)
What have we learned?
First, Sheila never complained or said, “why me?”
NOT ONE SINGLE TIME.
As a businessperson, I have been programmed to anticipate problems and have a “Plan A” followed by a “Plan B” to resolve complicated issues.
I quickly realized that with Sheila’s cancer, I had absolutely no control over her treatments and her outcome. Only her doctors, but most importantly the Lord, controlled all that.
And we both had an indescribable peace.
When I was a small child growing up at Griffith Memorial Baptist Church, I was taught a simple chorus by my Sunbeam leaders. You might know it too.
“I have the joy, joy, joy down in my heart, down in my heart, down in my heart.”
The second verse says, “I have the peace that passes understanding down in my heart, down in my heart, down in my heart.”
The only way I can explain our peace is that it comes from the Lord. 70 years later, the effort those teachers took to teach us that song became a reality in my life. (It has always been there in Sheila’s life…. she isn’t a worrier like me!”)
Recently, we were driving in the car, and I looked over and asked Sheila if she ever cried during the journey. She said no. But then confessed “I got a little tear that Saturday morning when Dr. Ley texted and said margins and lymph nodes were clear and tumor was gone.”
And we celebrated her good reports.
I bought her a used Corvette.
We booked a Rhine River cruise this summer in Europe.
I know that I savor the joy of our days together. We celebrate our 50th anniversary in December, and I know that I love Sheila even more than the day I met her at Pelahatchie Lake in March of 1974.
Right now, I am reading a book that contains a quote from Thomas Paine, one of the “Founding Fathers” and inspired the Patriots to declare independence from Great Britain in 1776.
“I love the man (and I will add the woman) that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength from distress and grow brave by reflection.”
With God’s help, I hope we’ve been that kind of man and woman over the past 12 months.
Kendall Smith is a Northsider.
