The Miracle in the Diagnosis

When I was diagnosed with cancer, I had no idea how I was supposed to feel. I wasn’t scared—I had a team of experts in oncology from a very well-respected institution.

“How are you feeling?” people would ask about ten times a day.

“I’m great,” I said, “really!” I would add noticing the hint of skepticism in their eyes.

“You seem to be handling this…much better than I would,” the hint becoming much more obvious.

In fact, I went through the grieving process rather quickly, skipping right over denial because why wouldn’t something rare and life-threatening happen to me. I was trying to find the good in my situation because if I had no choice in the matter, I might as well make the most of it. Maybe someone at the cancer center really needs me as a friend and this was the only way God could get me there, I thought.

I knew God’s hand was in this even if I couldn’t fully see it yet. And I knew that my only purpose in life is to show people the same love and kindness that He’s shown me; to leave this world a little better off than when I found it. Who cares if the process was sped up a little?

So I continued my oncology appointments, taking treatment one step at a time. Ignoring the fact that I was the only person in their 20s, ignoring the nurses questioning if I was in the right place each time I entered radiology, ignoring every “this shouldn’t be happening to you”. I wasn’t going to let a little thing like cancer keep me from living my life.

I met with my team two weeks later: Dr. Oliva, the surgeon and Dr. Desmond, who would explain radiation and chemotherapy.

“So it looks like you’ve tested positive for two different types of cancer.”

“It might not be the sarcoma?”

“Correct. A number of stains were performed, and you were vimentin positive, which indicates sarcoma; however, you were also CK7 positive, which indicates carcinoma. The surgery will help us determine which.”

I looked at the diagrams Dr. Desmond gave me and noticed that the carcinoma is much more common and much easier to treat than the original sarcoma I was diagnosed with.

“Do you feel relieved?” my stepmom asked later that day. I felt the same. God’s plans for my life are good, and the type of cancer doesn’t change that. Still, “I hope it’s carcinoma” is a sentence I never thought I’d appreciate.

“So it’s definitely cancer either way?”

“Yes,” the Doctor responded.

We made the plans for surgery, and I wasn’t going to go through the “what ifs” until I knew what it was. Waiting for the results wasn’t hard either because I was in full recovery mode. I had enough on my plate navigating normal life with one arm. Temporarily—that made it sound like my surgery was an amputation.

And then it happened. The phone call we’ve all been waiting for.

“I just wanted to let you know that your pathology results came back, and it is not cancer. It’s a rare, benign sweat gland tumor.”

How is that possible? How could so many excellent doctors say I have cancer for a month if it wasn’t really there in the first place? So many thoughts scrambled through my brain, but all I could get out was “Oh. That’s great!”

When we think of the miracles of Jesus, we tend to think of the big water walking, wine drinking, sea parting ones. But what about the miracles that happen here every day? The chance of being diagnosed with the specific cancer they originally told me was one in a million. The chance of them backtracking and giving me a slightly less frightening possibility was even less likely. So the chances of testing positive for something so rare, that never even existed in me are so close to zero they didn’t think it was even possible. It had to be cancer. How could my team at Yale go from being so confident it was cancer to so confident that it’s not in a month? That’s a modern-day miracle if I’ve ever seen one.

So what was the point? If I never had cancer, what was the purpose in thinking I was dying for a month? It all points back to God. Life itself is the biggest miracle there is, and He’s saved mine once again. It doesn’t seem fair. Why me? I don’t deserve to be saved any more than the next guy. So what is my purpose now that I’ve been given a second chance? To leave this world a little better off than I found it.

It’s a reminder that we all have limited time here. Every moment of your life matters. We’re all given the chance to show kindness or anger. Love or hate. It’s a reminder that we’re better off together. I believe the outcome would have been different if I didn’t have an outpouring of support from my family, friends, and so many more. I am forever grateful for each and every one.

We’re all infinitely more powerful when we lean on one another in times of stress. Never underestimate the power of a heartfelt prayer or a positive thought—your power to make a difference. Because God did this, but so did you. I am able to say I am alive and cancer-free because of the miraculous power of a compassionate, loving God and a community of people who exhibited incredible faith that I would be okay.