On September 1st I went to my scheduled routine mammogram. While there I saw a posted sign for an online service in which you could sign up for and have access to your medical records. "Good idea", I thought. So I had the mammogram and went to work. I also got online and registered for the service. Early the next afternoon I received a message that I had results posted, so naturally I signed on and went to give it a look. I really thought I wouldn't even be able to decipher the test results, but I was wrong. There in findings it started mentioning cysts, nodules, etc. But then I saw it, it seemed to be in all caps and bolded (it really wasn't): small solid mass. Hmm, now what? An ultrasound and magnified mammogram were now scheduled for September 16th. If you know me at all, you might know that I'm like my dad in the fact that when there's a problem, you do the next logical thing to solve it. And if you have to wait a couple of weeks then you try to keep busy and occupied so you're not focusing on the problem. So when Mark asked if I'd like to go on a motorcycle ride with people from his work, I said yes. I was hoping it would take my mind off of "it". Because even though I was trying not to think of "it", apparently somewhere deep in my grey matter, I'd been rolling the information around quite a bit. I realized this through a series of small panic attacks I started having. If you've ever had one, you will know what I'm typing about. Panic attacks aren't fun, they interfere with the way my body processes sugar, and in general, they can be kind of embarrassing. The PA that was especially so happened during the first song of a choir program that I was in where I was standing on the front row. Quietly and quickly walking off the stage and out the door was really the only option that I had.
Let me get back to the Harley ride. There were about 16 cycles and about 28 people that rode north towards Rockville on Monday, Labor Day. One day after I'd hustled stage left and ditched the choir performance to go sit in a room, up against the wall, sweating and deep breathing.
As all the motorcycles took off down the road, something wonderful happened. Warm sunshine washed over me and fresh air enveloped me from head to toe. It felt wonderful! I popped in my earbuds, chose a Chris August album to listen to, and I started praying. Here's the great thing about tears while riding a motorcycle: they just sort of get swept away. Kind of like raindrops on the edge of a windshield. I started telling Jesus about what was going on (like He didn't already know). I was reminded of the scripture that tells us how bowls of tears are collected in Heaven.
You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book. Psalms 56:8
Something began to wash over me. Something bigger than panic attacks. Something that even though I couldn't see it or touch it was there! Peace. I hadn't had anymore testing yet, I didn't know results from anything yet, but it was alright. The Bible says that the Lord goes before and follows after me, that He has His hand upon me. (Psalms 139:5) Even when I'm on the back of a Harley, Jesus is right there with me. More tests would come along, but on that day I knew that He already knew; that was all I needed to know.
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