noun
- 1.a single distinct meaningful element of speech or writing, used with others (or sometimes alone) to form a sentence
- (Source: Google)
There is an age-old debate about which is mightier the pen or the sword, interpretation: can words cause more harm than weapons? Philosophers and essayists have weighed in over millennia on each side of the issue. I submit that the pen, words, should be declared the more powerful.
Mary and I were in a doctor's office recently where the nurse practitioner was asking questions of Mary and establishing her health history. As she finished, she looked at Mary and uttered the words: "You are disgustingly healthy!" Now those are the words you want to hear from a health professional as they're reviewing your current condition.
That is until we remembered why we were in the doctor's office in the first place. More words from a healthcare professional: "invasive lobular carcinoma,"- breast cancer. Mary has breast cancer.
There is no debate in my mind, a sword can inflict harm and even cause death but words like those in the line above can and did cause a lot of harm.
There is no debate in my mind, a sword can inflict harm and even cause death but words like those in the line above can and did cause a lot of harm.
An "annual OB/GYN checkup" and "mammogram" are the words that led to more words. A technologist doing the mammogram said "let me take another image, I didn't get a good image", medical speak for " I found something that I can't tell you about and I want to make sure I get a good image for the radiologist to see."
The OB/GYN doc saying she's very concerned, you need to see a surgeon. The surgeon using words like I think this is cancer, you need a biopsy. The radiologist doing the biopsy using words 'this is very worrisome" and the path report will be back after 3 pm on Monday.
So now there is a weekend, a long weekend of running those words over and over in my mind, interpreting them in so many ways that they cease to have any relationship to reality. Words coming like water over a tall waterfall, there's no way to stop them or corral them or manage the way they bounce around.
Then Monday arrives and the official diagnosis of cancer is confirmed. Appointments are set with medical oncologist, radiation oncologist and a surgeon. During these visits we learn new words, acronyms and abbreviations for drugs, tests and procedures. Things I could have lived my whole life without knowing and been much happier!
Then we hear words that at the same time offer encouragement and instill more anxiety: "people don't die from breast cancer, they die from the cancer spreading to other organs. Since yours has already spread some, we need to see if it has spread beyond the lymph nodes we know about." So now there is more waiting for the test to be scheduled then for the results to come back.
At a time when the words have overwhelmed, other words come to the rescue.
Karen, a former co-worker and now Facebook friend, is a breast cancer survivor. Karen chronicled her experience with the diagnosis and treatment with almost daily posts on FB. At first, I didn't want to read her posts. I didn't want to hear about her experience because, I guess, I was afraid of the outcome. Before her journey to recovery was complete, I looked forward to hearing the latest. She was so open that it was encouraging and her outcome was very positive.
At the point where I was being overwhelmed, I recalled her words about her experience and was calmed. Her words gave me hope and thus, some relief.
Jean, Jerrie, and other breast cancer survivors' stories made us realize that, although the road to recovery may be long and difficult, at least there is a road!
Then more encouraging words, this time from the oncologist: "the scan was negative for the spread of the cancer!" And his words on which we hang: "This is curable!"
As we talked about the battle we faced, Mary's words were "God has this. I won't worry about it." And then she says, "I'm tough, I can fight this if you'll help me." I can't think of many more humbling but empowering words!
So Mary has commissioned an Army. God is, of course, the Commander in Chief. I've been commissioned as General, I really wanted to be an Admiral since I was a Navy man but.... She granted various ranks to our family as we wage battle but we also solicit the support of other warriors. We, along with other cancer victims and their families, need your prayers, kind thoughts, encouragement and support. You are all drafted!
Today Mary received the third of six chemotherapy treatments. She has fared extremely well and we are encouraged by a shrinking of the tumor and the lymph nodes even after just two treatments. She will follow the chemo with surgery and later with radiation therapy.
The effects of the words has softened. They are now more like water in a mountain stream as it cascades over the rocks, they're still there but maybe less frightening.
We look forward to the day when the words we hear are: "You're cured!"
The OB/GYN doc saying she's very concerned, you need to see a surgeon. The surgeon using words like I think this is cancer, you need a biopsy. The radiologist doing the biopsy using words 'this is very worrisome" and the path report will be back after 3 pm on Monday.
So now there is a weekend, a long weekend of running those words over and over in my mind, interpreting them in so many ways that they cease to have any relationship to reality. Words coming like water over a tall waterfall, there's no way to stop them or corral them or manage the way they bounce around.
Then Monday arrives and the official diagnosis of cancer is confirmed. Appointments are set with medical oncologist, radiation oncologist and a surgeon. During these visits we learn new words, acronyms and abbreviations for drugs, tests and procedures. Things I could have lived my whole life without knowing and been much happier!
Then we hear words that at the same time offer encouragement and instill more anxiety: "people don't die from breast cancer, they die from the cancer spreading to other organs. Since yours has already spread some, we need to see if it has spread beyond the lymph nodes we know about." So now there is more waiting for the test to be scheduled then for the results to come back.
At a time when the words have overwhelmed, other words come to the rescue.
Karen, a former co-worker and now Facebook friend, is a breast cancer survivor. Karen chronicled her experience with the diagnosis and treatment with almost daily posts on FB. At first, I didn't want to read her posts. I didn't want to hear about her experience because, I guess, I was afraid of the outcome. Before her journey to recovery was complete, I looked forward to hearing the latest. She was so open that it was encouraging and her outcome was very positive.
At the point where I was being overwhelmed, I recalled her words about her experience and was calmed. Her words gave me hope and thus, some relief.
Jean, Jerrie, and other breast cancer survivors' stories made us realize that, although the road to recovery may be long and difficult, at least there is a road!
Then more encouraging words, this time from the oncologist: "the scan was negative for the spread of the cancer!" And his words on which we hang: "This is curable!"
As we talked about the battle we faced, Mary's words were "God has this. I won't worry about it." And then she says, "I'm tough, I can fight this if you'll help me." I can't think of many more humbling but empowering words!
So Mary has commissioned an Army. God is, of course, the Commander in Chief. I've been commissioned as General, I really wanted to be an Admiral since I was a Navy man but.... She granted various ranks to our family as we wage battle but we also solicit the support of other warriors. We, along with other cancer victims and their families, need your prayers, kind thoughts, encouragement and support. You are all drafted!
Today Mary received the third of six chemotherapy treatments. She has fared extremely well and we are encouraged by a shrinking of the tumor and the lymph nodes even after just two treatments. She will follow the chemo with surgery and later with radiation therapy.
The effects of the words has softened. They are now more like water in a mountain stream as it cascades over the rocks, they're still there but maybe less frightening.
We look forward to the day when the words we hear are: "You're cured!"
