“So, What is Your Prognosis?”
By Julie Graubard
April 14, 2009
The other day I was at the beach w/ my family and some family friends when the question came. “Julie, so what is your prognosis?” I’ve only ever heard the question a handful of times. Each time I’ve heard those words directed toward me I’ve felt like my heart would stop and my face would turn white. I would stumble over words for an answer to assure them I’m fine. What I really want to do is shout, “My prognosis is good! You didn’t know that? How could you even ask? How could you not know that? I’m fine! Just as fine as you are!” But instead I say, “Oh, good, quite good, I’ve been given a clean bill of health.” Following a question like that, I try desperately to make sure they know I’m ok. I’d be lying if I told you the conversation is over in my mind. The thoughts following the conversation stay w/ me in the pit of my stomach for days. The reality that I have had a disease which has left people w/ that question in their mind is disturbing to me. This brings home the harsh reality that I truly had been a very sick girl, one who has left people concerned for my well-being.
Despite how hard it is to hear this question, I’d rather people ask. The reality is not many people have the nerve to ask the question, but when they do I’m left with an unsettled feeling. Make no mistake I prefer people to ask the question to the many in my path who must be wondering about my prognosis even though they do not ask. For since they do not ask I do not know to answer them. I wonder do they sit around assuming I will always be sick or this horrible disease called cancer could take my life. Maybe I’m self-absorbed for thinking anyone is thinking about my family. But people are curious. And there are those who have prayed for us along the way. Some heard of our family through the kids’ school, others who see us at church each week watch my hair slowly grow back. I want to offer them my answer.
When something like cancer hits your family, you may recover; but your life has changed forever. In a way it is a good change. You are aware of your blessings like never before. It’s possibly a better way to live, but it also leaves you feeling different. My friend calls it “the other side of the street” – the feeling you get when your extreme circumstances make your life significantly different from others. It is like you are stuck on the other side of the street away from those walking the so-called normal path. Some refer to it as a “new” normal type of life. Me, I tend to just think I don’t fit. Period. At least not in the way I used to. If I’m to be politically correct I might refer to myself as differently-abled. I feel different from everyone else. While maybe I hyper perceive everyone seeing me as different, there are still many who do
For me, feeling like I no longer fit in shows its ugly face in many ways. One is how vulnerable my own body has become – like it has let me down in some way. Other times I’m angry others seem to me to be exempt from sickness and that I failed because it happened to me. We all feel exempt or invincible sometimes – why wouldn’t we when we’ve never experienced stuff such as cancer or loss of a spouse or a child or a tragedy along those line? But I assure you of this - once you’ve experienced one of these types of extreme vulnerabilities, you never go back to a normal life. You realize you are indeed vulnerable to life and what it throws at you. You ultimately have absolutely no control. Sure you can make wise choices and live a responsible life, a healthy life, but I assure you, it’s a fallen world and life will still happen. The only real control you do have is how you will respond. Will you turn to the Lord or go it alone?
That day at the beach, I answered my prognosis is good. But really, my prognosis is as good as anyone else’s. But do we all see that?
This brings to me my own question for everyone else. So, what is your prognosis? I mean, do you really know? Our days are numbered and no one really knows when the Lord will come and take us home. How do you answer? What is your prognosis?
An acquaintance who works in the front office at my boys’ school just lost her husband a few weeks ago. He was not sick. This woman, a kind woman who I would often stop and talk with & who seemed to adore Lilly was a bright spot in my day. Now suddenly she has been sent flying by a hurricane strength wind to the other side of the street as she became a widow. Her husband was flown from Grand Cayman Island to Miami, Florida in an emergency helicopter after being diagnosed w/ a stroke/blood clot and died within the week. This was a shock to the family. It was completely unexpected. Apparently his prognosis was not good, but no one knew that. No one would have asked. Certainly if I had met him I imagine it never would have crossed my mind to say, “So, what is your prognosis?” The question would sound absurd.
This is proof positive to me the one thing we can be sure of is whether or not we will choose to walk through life w/ Jesus by our side. Will we ask him into our life? You see I do know my prognosis is good in one way. We had a friend named Frank. Frank battled cancer himself. If you asked Frank how he was doing he’d say, “I’m good. I can’t lose. If God heals me . . . then I am blessed to stay here much longer to be with my friends and family. But if he takes me home to be with the Lord . . . than I am blessed.” Frank was right. He realized something we all should. With Jesus our prognosis is good.
I hope God let’s me live for many more years. Through the ups and downs this life on earth brings I continue to cling to Him, begging Him to draw me in closer. Like everyone else out there who knows Jesus, my prognosis is good. Excellent really. For I know the Lord, Jesus and with him by my side, leading me . . . I cannot lose.
I may be different, but it’s a good different. Cancer helped me to see that.
We have two great choices to make in life. Will we give our lives completely to the Lord? Yes or No. And if we do, will we follow his most important assignment. Will we lead others to Him? I ask you again . . . So, what is Your Prognosis?
