Survivor

Except for starring in a reality show, no one asks to be a survivor. You hear the term applied to those who made it through holocausts and plane crashes, through wars and natural disasters. And of course, you hear said of people like me: cancer survivors.

How amazing that sounds right now! It still seems hard to believe. My blood looked normal, aboslutely normal. And my usually-cautious doctor said, “You’re cured!”

You’re cured! Could there ever be two more perfect words?

I still have to report to the cancer center for a blood test every six months for the next two-and-a-half years. But I can do so with a much lighter heart.

Best of all, my clean bill of health means I can travel to Kenya this summer. When I was at my sickest, in my bone marrow transplant isolation room, I decided not to pray for my healing but for what my healing could bring. Chief among those desires was being with my dear Kenyan friends again.

Let me add the caveat that I do not know why some are healed and others are not. But I am so grateful to be cured.

If you keep checking our blog, read on for where this healing takes all of us. It will be so nice to look ahead without constanly looking over my shoulder.

I’m a very blessed survivor. Thank you all for everything.

Asante Jesu kwakuwa,
Caren

~ by jonmccormack on April 2, 2009.