Big C, D-Day,God with a Big 'G'

Was it just nine days ago that a scope revealed a mass? Its adjective “malignant” sucks the mundane out of me as it stamped a Big "C" on my mom, a double C: colon cancer. While two sisters waited five days to tell our mom about the reason for a consult, other siblings bristled to speak up. The dear duo, however, didn’t want her to worry alone at night.

Alone for 37 years since Dad died, Mom prayed her worries nightly to her God, my God--the Heavenly Father who with the Spirit and the Son Jesus are omnipresent, forever and ever. Amen.

Before they broke the news to Mom, my sisters took her on a holiday jaunt.  They tasted fresh artichoke bread, sniffed cleansing salt spray at Pescadero Beach, and smooched kisses with my special, four year-old nephew. When they finally shared the news, Mom AD/HD chatted off topic! Finally, she declared that Monday would be her “D-Day.”

D-Day was the longest day for the Allied Nations during World War II. June 6, 1944 Allied forces hit the beaches of Europe to free millions from the killing Socialism of Mussolini/Hitler’s goosesteps.

As a teenager my mom knew such oppression via another Axis power. A student nurse, my mom learned far beyond her given curriculum—how to write and read Kanji, how to speak Japanese, how to bow at a certain degree when an occupier came her way.

From the chapel to wards Mom nursed many injured and dying with prayers, sulfa pills, and two syringes sterilized by a fiery thread of an oily wick. All the while sleep-deprived nights became day bright from the bombing of Manila. Shouts of joy filled the islands when MacArthur fulfilled his vow.

Now at 87.5 years Mom endured her D-day. It began Monday morning and lingered Wednesday evening in waves of sharp, abdominal pain. “Worse than labor,” said the former delivery nurse with six kids.

Pray this protracted day will liberate Mom from weaknesses. There is every hope to see her healed. The doctor said due to good habits her body is “young.” In Great Britain she might not be deemed young or worthy of surgery. This week a UK headline reads, “Cancer operations are denied to thousands of elderly patients 'because of ageism'.” In 2012 Mom lives in a country where she was not refused cancer surgery.

The day after surgery Mommy sat up, walked three times, and demanded scrambled eggs. Request refused. Nil Per Os. Ice chips for a few more days. Then liquids for a few more weeks and by Labor Day, watch out!

God's not dead; He’s surely alive. In the malignant and the mundane God will handle your problems as you LET them GO to grasp God with a Big G.