2019 was a funny old year for me – I lost a bit of my right boob (it wasn’t my favourite one, but I still felt a bit sad for it) and was effectively maimed in March and April (two operations) and then it felt as though I was pushed under a bus with the radiotherapy in June and July when I experienced the true meaning of ‘fatigue’.
But 2019 was the most amazing year – thanks be to God. I had some lovely messages from Christians who were praying for me and felt God tell them that I was in His grip, that ‘He’s got this’…and I really was and He really did. I learned to stand firm on the rock of Jesus, knowing that however bad the storm got, I would be ok. I was either going to live, or go to heaven to be with Him.
By Jan 2020, having breast cancer had become a memory that was jolted once a day if I caught sight of my naked top half in the bathroom mirror…and then on and off when I received an NHS branded letter or attended an appointment.
In March however, I went down with viral pnuemonia that looked similar to Covid 19 on the X-ray, but I was not tested. I slipped through the crack of not being quite ill enough to need to be admitted to hospital for oxygen or a ventilator (this was 23rd March so just after lockdown and only key workers were being tested). I was very unwell for a number of months – there were times at night where I thought I may not wake up…the pain in my chest, the cough, the breathlessness – like nothing I’ve experienced before.
Another chance to learn God’s love and tenderness and omnipresence. Once again I knew that I would be ok – I was either going to live, or go to heaven to be with Him
Then in early July I had some blood-tests including something called a D-Dimer, as I was still experiencing some pains and breathlessness and coughing intermittently during the day. The same day of the test I was called by an out of hours doctor and told to go to A&E and tell them that I had a positive D-Dimer of 7424. A ‘normal level’ is under 500. This level indicated that I had a very large blood clot somewhere in my body.
I sat in A&E listening to the staff bemoan the pending Saturday opening of the pubs and texted my church family for prayer. Was I about to have a heart attack or stroke? I felt like a ticking time bomb…and God said ‘I’ve got this – you are in my grip’ and I knew I would be ok – I was either going to live, or go to heaven to be with him.
Over the next couple of days I was injected in the tummy (just the once – wowzer was it painful though!) and had a CT scan on my chest and ultrasound on my legs. No blood clot was found. I asked for another D-Dimer and reluctantly the AECU doctor allowed it (turns out they are quick tests and cheap!), it came back as 447…..
So, I’m still here x 3! I guess I still have work to do down here and more runs to run, but having felt like I was staring death in the face three times in the last 18 months, instead of ‘can run will run’ I feel an urgent call of ‘can run must run’…