It's been a year.

A year ago today we received the letter informing Vicki that she needed to have a second mammogram because there was some concern with her first one. At the time, I tried to tell myself that there was little cause to be too concerned. After all, there are a lot of reasons why a second mammogram might be needed, and many of them are no big deal. Yet, I remember feeling a tightening of my stomach and the beginnings of the proverbial butterflies starting a migration through my insides.

It's been a year, but so much has happened since then. The second mammogram did show a mass, but there were still questions about what kind of mass it was. Vicki then went through a needle biopsy so the docs could get a tissue sample to ascertain whether the mass was cancerous or not. It was. She then had a double radical mastectomy in the first of May 2007. When the biopsy report came back from that, we found that the cancer had spread to her lymph nodes. Her chemotherapy started at the end of May and lasted into September. Then, she went through radiation treatment that lasted until mid-November.

Obviously, Vicki is taking various drugs, and that will continue for years, but it has been four months since the major treatments ended. Yet, we can still identify behaviors and reactions that seem to be related to her chemo or radiation. I talked with a woman last week who had her last treatment more than two years ago; she told me that she still has times when she experiences the kinds of things that Vicki does. That is not surprising I guess considering how powerful the drugs and radiation were, but certainly it is not encouraging.

It's been a year, but what a difference a year makes. There are times when I feel like time has speeded up, and it was just last month that this year long journey fraught with fear and panic and concern started. At other times, I feel like time has come to a stand still, and we have been living with this situation for years and years and years.

I feel like I should have some deep insight into this year of fear and struggle, but I don't. I am not certain why. Perhaps, this is because it has just ended, and I will need some longer time to provide a proper perspective. Perhaps, though, it is because I feel like we are still going through the journey and will continue to travel this path until our death.

I did take some comfort this morning from the Psalm text for this Sunday of Passion moving the person of faith into Holy Week. In the 31st Psalm it is written: "Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am in distress; my eye wastes away from grief, my soul and body also. ... But I trust in you, O Lord; I say, 'You are my God.' My times are in your hand; deliver me from the hand of my enemies and persecutors. Let your face shine upon your servant; save me in your steadfast love." May it be so.