"Leap of Faith and into His Will" by Mary LaFrance

The crisp autumn air was beginning to move in as school had begun and summer was quickly fading away.

September 2, 2005, it was round #2 of chemotherapy. I went to work at 7:00 a.m. and worked until 9:30 a.m. When I checked out at the office, my friend Ann was at her desk, she was the main secretary to the principal at the high school. She stopped me for a moment to let me know that she would be praying that today would go as well as the first treatment. I gave her a thumbs up and told her I believed it would, and off I went.

I got to the clinic about 5 minutes before my scheduled appointment. I had been listening to my Carpenters CD in the car, and the song “Reason to Believe” had just finished playing. There was plenty of reasons for me to believe that Jesus was right there with me again, watching over me and He was going to show his hand very soon, as to how He wanted this treatment session to go.

My nurse, Dina came and got me from the lobby. She asked how I had been feeling and how was my energy level. I told her about my activities including golf and horseback riding, and I had gone back to work full-time when the new school year began. She said that Dr. Brouns had shared with her that I hadn’t gotten sick from the first round of treatment, and he was happy for me but quite amazed. I smiled and told her, “Yeah, God has a funny way sometimes of revealing to the world just how powerful He really is!”

I settled into the same recliner I had the last time, and asked Dina if we could watch ESPN again, as there was another baseball game on. No problem and she graciously handed Leon the remote. He got comfortable and I had brought along some Ritz crackers and string cheese. In the treatment room was a refrigerator filled with an assortment of drinks for the patients that we could help ourselves to whenever we were thirsty. I grabbed a water and a Coke Classic and went back to sit down. Dina came and started prepping me for my “goodies.” She asked me if I wanted the steroid this time, and I politely told her no thank you, I’m good. She got my IV pole and placed the first bag on the hook, and away it went…slowly dripping.

It was Labor Day weekend and the house would be very quiet with Aliceson over in Portland, OR going to college. I knew I’d have to find something to fill my time so I wouldn’t miss her so much. I wasn’t quite sure how it would all unfold, but I knew I could pack my suitcase to leave for Missouri next Friday. It was getting close and I was excited to be going to see my sister and just getting away for a few days. Dr. Brouns had inquired about my flight, length of stay and had some precautionary things he felt would be good. He suggested I wear a full length compression sleeve on my right arm while flying to avoid the possibility of getting lymphedema (fluid filled arm swelling), and to wear a mask to avoid germs. I listened, but all the while I was thinking, nope, not gonna happen. I wasn’t trying to be disagreeable with my doctor, but I just kept believing in Jesus, and my faith and trust kept growing like the flowers that bloom in the Spring. I wasn’t going to crush my gentle doctor and tell him “No way”, but I would just keep my thoughts to myself and get through this treatment day.

About halfway through this session #2, Dr. Brouns came in the treatment room to check on me. He sat down in front of me on the rolling stool and was watching the steady drip of my drugs. He asked me if I felt weak, had a headache, numbness, if my nose was cold, or if I felt nausea. I happily replied “No” to each of his assessment questions. He chuckled and said, “Well, if I wasn’t sitting here with you watching these powerful drugs going through your IV, I’d say there was just plain water being dripped into your veins.” He got up to walk away, but he turned around with a sheepish sort of grin and looked me at said, “I know, it’s a God thing, right?” I smiled and gave him a big thumbs up!

Tuesday, September 6th, I got to work and was in the mailroom checking my box. The first teacher I saw I spoke to with a friendly smile and said, “Good Morning, hope you had a great Labor Day weekend.” She turned and looked at me and replied, “I did not have a good weekend, and you look so bad this morning. You’ve lost weight and your coloring is so gaunt.” I stood there as she went out the door and thought, “Satan, go back to your hole! You will never pack a big enough lunch to take on me and Jesus!” In a way it was good to be confronted by that teacher’s words that day, because it made me even more determined to fight, and fight like a girl! You know the type…hair pulling, biting, pinching and kicking like a mule! The rest of the week was uneventful and at last…it was Thursday. Tomorrow morning, I leave for Missouri! It could not get here fast enough and that pilot better have the pedal to the metal so to speak…Whee!