Reflections on the Teche

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A year ago there was a spot, small but noticeable, on the CAT scan. So appointments for continued monitoring were set at 3 month intervals. No significant change until two weeks before Christmas. Then the CAT scan became a PET scan, and the spot glowed like a red-faced crab…Cancer.

I call my mother-in-law Minga. That is the grandmother name my oldest daughter gave her when she began to speak. She said words backwards, “Book” was “Koo” and “Grandma” became “Minga.” Anne embraced the name.

Minga has become my closest friend. My father-in-law died in 2004. The next year, Minga got a dog, Petey. Charlie joined our family in 2007. We spend many Saturday mornings walking our dogs together. There is nothing that brings two people closer than walking and talking, talking and walking.

This morning I am not walking with Charlie, Petey, and Minga, but I am celebrating nonetheless. My dear friend told us the Sunday after Christmas that she had a malignant tumor in her left lung. The next week, Jeff and I went with her to the surgeon. We scheduled surgery for this past Thursday to remove the upper lobe of her left lung. The procedure, as you may imagine, was complicated. We were surprised to see the surgeon only an hour after they took her in. He told us everything had gone well. The tumor was definitely cancer, so the surgery was necessary. She only had one tube, rather than two, draining her lung. In other words, the news was as good as bad can get.

I am celebrating today not only the successful surgery, but also her amazing recovery. People who know Minga already know she is in great shape. She eats right and exercises two times a day. She looks 62 and not 82. She travels to exotic countries; She had to cancel a trip to India to do this surgery. So why would you expect anything less than an amazing recovery? Yesterday, the first day following the surgery, she took three walks around the floor. She sat up for most of the day. She ate about a third of her dinner. And she did a Sudoku puzzle.

On Thursday morning, I drove alone to the hospital. (My sister-in-law was in charge of getting her to the hospital.) When I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed people stopping and pointing up to the sky. Then I saw it…a rainbow. The promise, God’s promise that all will be well. I walked in with a lighter step, knowing all would be well. All is well!