Finding The Intruder [The Battle, Part 2]

A few weeks ago, I was given the task of leading a devotion at our staff training. I decided to share my battle story and now I’m sharing it with you. 

So, I ended up back in the urologist office after the weekend with the pee bag, desperately hoping my bladder would be functioning. The first thing the nurse said to me when she called me back was that they needed to do another CT scan. At this point, I was beginning to learn the art of asking questions since they weren’t telling me much of anything. Very nonchalantly, she said the radiologist thought he saw a mass but not to worry because the doctor just thinks it was my bladder. So at this point I really thought nothing of it, probably because I was so nervous about the bladder test they were about to do.

We started with the bladder test, something called void and empty, I think. Which is just like it sounds. I got to have my bladder filled up through a catheter and then see if I could pee it all out. I don’t think I’ve ever concentrated so much while relieving myself. We moved on to the CT scan and while she was getting the thing ready I asked her if I’d “passed the test.” If I hadn’t been laying on the table for the scan, I probably would have done a cheerleading move when she told me I had. I cannot describe to you how excited I was.

After the scan, I ended up waiting in a room for a while. The PA came in and sat down. He looked cautiously at me and said, “Do you have a gynecologist?” I thought, “Why is this relevant right now?” But instead responded with, “Uhhh, yea.” Again, cautiously, he said, “Well you’ll need to schedule an appointment. You have a mass on your ovary.” And that was it. I said “Ok,” and left the office. Maybe my mind was still on the bladder victory or maybe I was in shock, but it really didn’t seem like a big deal. Until I talked to my mom. She seemed concerned. Maybe I should be concerned. Then I really started to take it in. A mass. What does that mean? A cyst? Or a tumor? Or something else? I started to get scared.

Then I found this glorious verse in my Bible. I think I actually had read it over the weekend but it had little meaning at the time. But now it seemed the verse had been written for this moment. I was reminded that this mysterious mass had not gone unseen by God. But I began to pray this Psalm – that God would not keep silent over it, that He would awake to my right and act, that He would not allow this thing to swallow me up.

You have seen it, O Lord, do not keep silent; O Lord, do not be far from me. Stir up Yourself, and awake to my right and to my cause, my God and my Lord. Judge me, O Lord my God, according to Your righteousness, and do not let them rejoice over me. Do not let them say in their heart, “Aha, our desire!” Do not let them say, “We have swallowed him up!” Let those be ashamed and humiliated altogether who rejoice at my distress; Let those be clothed with shame and dishonor who magnify themselves over me.” - Psalm 35: 22-26

Looking back, I see God’s hand in the timing of things. I left the urologist that day and made an appointment for the gynecologist the very next day. They ended up not being able to see me because the report from my CT was not ready yet. I was mad about it. I didn’t know it at the time, but I needed to have a conversation with a guy from my church first. But I’ll tell you about that in the next part.