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A Contemporary Story: Sarah’s Silence
It is at night that I feel fear the most. David is asleep and the house is still. I wonder if death is like this – still and quiet. Many times I’ve said that I am not fearful of the cancer that is spreading through my body. I got over the shock when I heard my GP say that I am in the early stages of lung cancer. That was two years ago. Blood tests, chemotherapy, radiation became words that seemed to define my identity. Talking about my fears and my feelings became easier as time went by. The love and care of David and my two adult daughters took a while for me to get used to. I tried to understand my mother’s anger and her frustration that there were no more treatments for the kind of cancer I had. I am always grateful for my caring friends with whom I can laugh, have cups of tea and talk about the ordinary things of life.
Tonight I remember the words of a friend who reminded me that each step I take is ‘Journey’ and every breath is ’Life’ These words have given me strength to face the different mileposts in this journey. Two months ago, I decided that I would terminate the regular chemo and radiation. My body had had enough. What I didn’t expect was the reactions of my daughters and David. Their anger that I dared to make this decision without talking to them first was hurtful. They made me feel as though I was being selfish, that I didn’t value their feelings. It led to moments that made me wonder if I had made the right decision. Should I have had more faith in my medical team? Could I have had a longer period of remission on the new drug I had started?
It was David who asked gently if I had given sufficient thought to recent medical research that was discovering cures for lung cancer. He sounded as if he believed that a cure would be found soon. That I wouldn’t die soon. I didn’t have the courage to tell him that I had been considering assisted dying and sometimes even euthanasia. I am glad I didn’t tell him this. He would have been dreadfully hurt. None of my family would have forgiven me.
Tonight as I sit in silence a word comes to mind. “Faith”. It is a word I had accepted without any questions. Now I wonder if there is a difference between my faith as a Christian and David’s faith in Science that is leading to new miracles. I don’t always find the answers I need in my Bible, or in the worship as a regular member of my church. I wonder what answers I am hoping for as I realise that my life is coming to an end? A miracle cure? Is there life after death? That my faith in God will remain unshaken and will sustain me as I wait to die?
The pain killers begin to take effect. Sarah slips into a deep sleep. Her body is pain free. Her mind is still until she wakes to the dawn of a new day.
Pray:
God of death and life, be with me in this confusing fog of not-knowing. In my journey, stay close, even when I can’t see ahead.