Cinco de Mayo

I'm late, I know. On May 5th, I posted a status update on facebook about celebrating 4 years cancer free! Many of my friends and family have messaged me and said, "Tell us the story." A lot of people have said, "I didn't know that about you." It's not a conversation starter, ya'll. Hi, My name is Mandy, and once upon a time I had cancer. Everyone would run in the opposite direction. If you're around me long enough and the conversation comes up, I'm thrilled to share the faithfulness of Daddy-God with anyone who will listen.

Since you all are my captive-audience (and because you asked), I'm going to attempt to tell you this part of my testimony. A part that I can't share without being overwhelmed by the goodness of God. This may get long or it may become two posts, we'll see...

About 4 and 1/2 years ago, Marty and I were living in San Diego, CA. We were stationed there, while Marty served in the US Navy. My Dad was living with us, at the time. I got sick. Not just a little sick, like wretchedly ill, I just want God to take me NOW, kind of sick. I thought, I had a stomach virus, but a couple of days in and no one else in the house was sick. I had a fever, headache, chills, stomach "issues," etc. I literally laid on the couch for days (thank God my Dad was with us to take care of Eli and Julie). I was officially out of commission. There was a long series of events that led to me being seen at the Naval Medical Center in San Diego. We had to fight with the insurance to get me in, because I was supposed to be seen by a civilian doctor, but couldn't get in anywhere. Turns out I had a severe case of pneumonia. Doctor's wanted to hospitalize me. I said, "No, just give me something strong and send me home." I had suffered at home for days, anyways. Went home got better, life moved on.

6 months later, I was at a park with the kids and a friend from church. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I told my friend, I need to go home, now. I know, God guided our car over the Coronado Bridge and took us safely home. I don't remember much about that drive, except for praying that God would keep us safe. My head hurt and I was exhausted. Got home, went to bed, got up with Marty the next morning and said, "You can drop me off at the hospital on your way to work, I have pneumonia, again." He didn't believe me. The nurse who checked me in didn't believe me. The doctor didn't believe me, but said, "Well, since you're here, we'll do the chest x-ray to give you peace of mind, but I don't hear anything in your lung." 20 minutes after the x-ray, the attending physician came into the room with my other doctor and said, "It is pneumonia and the lung is so full of fluid that we can't hear it anymore." He schooled the other doctor in what to listen for, wrote me a strong prescription and sent me home. I didn't feel nearly as bad as the last time. This was treated like walking pneumonia and 3 days later I was feeling a lot better.

I had been taking things easy and just hanging out around the house with Dad and the littles, while Marty worked. It was a Friday afternoon and my phone rang. On the other end was my ER doctor, with the news that everyone dreads...

That's all for now, I'll get the rest up later on this week. I'd be more motivated to finish the story, if I saw some significant movement in The Rogers' Family Giveaway...just saying :)

Hidden in Christ,
Mandy