Season of Blessing Page 22

  Sylvia sang along, trying to get her mind focused on the amazing grace of a God who sent a compassionate friend who’d suffered through the same thing, on the day that she needed her the most.

  Priscilla stayed through the whole treatment, then helped her back out to Harry, and hugged her good-bye.

  “We both made it through,” Priscilla said. “We survived. The worst is behind us now.”

  Sylvia started to cry. She hadn’t expected it, and didn’t really have the energy to do it. Yet the tears came—deep, soulful, blubbering tears. “It’s over,” she whispered to Harry. “It’s over.”

  Harry and Priscilla cried with her, as the joy of her release from the bondage of chemotherapy finally began to dawn on her.

  CHAPTER

  Fifty-Three

  Several days after Sylvia’s final chemo treatment—when she was finally able to get out of bed—she went to the hospital for CT scans of her head, chest, abdomen, and bones.

  She prayed while she waited for the scanners to move over her body, searching for any more signs of cancer that had spread to other organs or bones. At the end of the day, she went for her blood test and prayed as they drew the blood that the tumor markers would not be elevated.

  The results wouldn’t be in until the next day.

  Still tired and weak, Sylvia went home and tried to get her mind off of the tests. Cathy, Brenda, and Tory came over that night, and they watched Harvey on video and munched on popcorn and jelly beans.

  But as Harry slept next to her later that night, Sylvia lay awake, praying for remission. She didn’t know what she’d do if the test results showed that cancer had taken up residence somewhere else in her body.

  So this is what Gethsemane felt like, she thought. Stark fear, heartbreaking dread. She’d heard her pastor say that Gethsemane was the word for “olive press,” where they crushed olives to get the oil. In the garden of the olive press, Jesus had been crushed.

  Tonight she felt as though she was being crushed, too.

  As morning dawned and she gave up trying to sleep, Sylvia came to the place where Jesus had ended up that night.

  Not my will, but thine.

  She only wished she had more peace about it.

  Harry took her back to the oncologist’s office for the results. They waited, jittery, in the waiting room until he could see them in his office.

  “Good news,” Dr. Thibodeaux said as he hustled into the room. “Everything looks normal.”

  Sylvia gasped so hard it made her choke. “No. You’re kidding.”

  “Not kidding,” he said. “It looks like the chemo was successful.”

  Harry started to laugh, and she saw the tears glistening in his eyes as he hugged her. She threw her head back and laughed like a hysterical woman.

  “You’re not out of the woods yet, though,” Dr. Thibodeaux said. “You still have to go through radiation and hormone therapy. But the chemo was the worst of it, and for right now the results look as good as they could possibly be.”

  Sylvia felt as if the olive press had been lifted off her back. “Thank you. Oh, thank you, Lord!” She almost danced. “Doctor, isn’t there some way that I can have the radiation in Nicaragua so we can get back to our work?”

  Harry shook his head. “Honey, that’s not a good idea.”

  The doctor frowned. “Harry, I agree. I don’t recommend that at all. I’d prefer she waited here until she was finished. There’s a lot of danger of infection in the hospitals there, and the equipment is not up to par. León, Nicaragua, is not an environment that will help this process at all.”

  Harry gave her an apologetic look. “Sylvia, we can’t go back to the field just yet.”

  She wasn’t going to let that news get her down. “It’s okay. Only a few more months.”

  As they walked out of the office with Dr. Thibodeaux, Harry stopped him. “Could I get a copy of her records to take to the plastic surgeon? It’s time for her to have her expandable implant replaced with a permanent one, and he’ll want to see where we are in the process.”

  Dr. Thibodeaux nodded. “Sure. I can give you all the records of the test results, but my dictation won’t be back for a month or so, so you won’t have my notes. It takes that long to get it transcribed.”

  Harry laughed. “The test results will be fine. You should try doing your notes the old-fashioned way like I do. Write them yourself.”

  “I see too many patients,” he said. “It slows me down to handwrite them, and I tend to abbreviate my comments. I can be more thorough if I dictate. It just takes so long to get them typed. Our transcription service handles most of the doctors’ offices in town, so there’s a terrible turnaround time on them.”

  The germ of an idea planted itself in Sylvia’s mind. “Have you ever thought of hiring your own typist for the office? That way you could have a one-day turnaround.”

  The doctor shrugged. “We haven’t really given that any thought. We just do it the way we always have.”

  “You should think about it,” Sylvia said. “If you made someone a full-time employee with benefits and everything, you could hire someone of quality. They could even work from home. Show up once a day to return the notes they’ve typed and pick up what you dictated that day…”

  Dr. Thibodeaux gave Sylvia a knowing look. “Sylvia, you’re not looking for a job, are you?”

  Sylvia laughed. “Me? Heavens, no. I’m no typist. But I have a dear friend who would be perfect for a job like that. All you’d have to do is create it, and I bet I could convince her to take it.”

  His smile faded, and he stared at her for a moment as the wheels seemed to turn in his mind. “Tell you what. This might be an excellent idea. Let me talk to my partners, and then I’ll give you a call. Maybe we could set up an interview with your friend.”

  “You’d better hurry before someone else snaps her up,” Sylvia said.

  She laughed as they walked out to the car, and all the way home she chattered and planned the party she was going to have for the neighbors that night to celebrate her good news. As she made her plans she felt as if the worst of her disease was behind her. What lay ahead was going to be easy in comparison. Soon cancer would be a distant memory in her life, and she would be able to get on with her work.

  She decided to hit the ground running to prove to everyone that the old Sylvia was back.

  CHAPTER

  Fifty-Four

  Since the weather was unusually warm, the neighbors had a picnic in the open lot between Tory’s and Brenda’s houses that night to celebrate the good news. The Dodd kids decorated the trees with toilet paper and balloons, and Cathy brought her karaoke machine.

  Spencer tried to monopolize it, doing the Elvis impersonation he had become known for, but Leah and Rachel managed to get the microphone away from him to do a few numbers of their own. Brenda didn’t remember when she had ever laughed more.

  As darkness fell and the early March evening grew cool, they grabbed sweaters and turned up the grill and kept celebrating long into the night.

  When Brenda got home that night, her excitement over Sylvia’s remission left her floating on a wave of energy. As soon as the children were in bed, she hurried to her computer. David sat at the desk in the small room, working on the checkbook.

  He looked up at her as she began to type. “What are you doing?”

  “I decided to write a proposal to give to Dr. Thibodeaux at the Cancer Center.”

  He stopped working and turned his chair to her. “What kind of proposal?”

  “A proposal of what I could do as the office transcriber. Sylvia said this would be a new job that they create. I don’t want to rely on Dr. Thibodeaux’s memory or imagination for this. I want to paint them a picture of what they could have if they hired me. Something Dr. Thibodeaux can take to his partners, so they can all catch the vision.”

  David smiled. “Good thinking. You’re a genius.”

  “No, Sylvia is. It was all her idea. Can you imagine? She’
d just gotten news that her body was clear of cancer, and what does she do? She starts campaigning for a job for me. And not just any job, but a job that doesn’t even exist, a job that would be perfect for me and allow me to work from home and still have full-time pay and benefits…”

  Her voice broke off as tears filled her eyes, and she brought her hand to her mouth. “Oh, David…do you realize what a blessing this could be?”

  He leaned forward, putting his face inches from hers. “It will be, honey, but I hate for you to get your hopes up. What if it doesn’t pan out?”

  Brenda blinked back her tears and slapped her hands onto her knees. “I’ve thought of that. If they decide not to take advantage of my offer, then I’ll submit the same proposal to every doctor’s office in town. And in the proposal, I’m going to offer to do two days’ worth of transcribing for free, just so they’ll see that I can do it. And hopefully, they’ll love the speed and the way it works, and hire me.”

  He grinned. “It could work.”

  “It will work, David. It has to.”

  CHAPTER

  Fifty-Five

  The final step in Sylvia’s breast reconstruction was a minor surgical procedure that needed to be done before her radiation, since the X rays were known to inhibit healing and rob the skin of its elasticity.

  She scheduled it for a couple of weeks before her first radiation treatment, then checked into the hospital, anxious to get her body back to as close to normal as possible.

  Sylvia stood in front of the hospital mirror, assessing herself with a critical eye. Her hair had begun to grow in and it felt like peach fuzz on her head, much like her grandbaby’s hair. Though it was gray, it was new, soft and fine, and it looked like it might have a slight curl as it grew. She hadn’t had a curl before.

  The breast implant had already been expanded to the size of her other breast—through her monthly saline injections—and under her T-shirt it looked as if she’d never had a mastectomy. Today they would remove the expandable implant and replace it with a permanent one, then make a few cosmetic adjustments to make it look more real.

  But she couldn’t help the delight surging through her at the idea that she was cancer-free and rebuilding her body. It made her feel that she was on her way to full and complete recovery. She would have the chance to watch her grandchild grow, see Jeff get married someday, and rock all the other grandchildren born into their family…and the ones she’d left in León.

  A knock sounded on the door. “Come in.”

  Harry stepped into the bathroom. “They’re ready to prep you for surgery,” he said.

  She nodded. “I’ll bet I’m readier than they are.”

  He gave her a hug and kissed her on the lips, then sent her on her way.

  The phone call Brenda had prayed for came Wednesday, the same day as Sylvia’s outpatient surgery, less than a week after she’d sent the proposal to the Cancer Center. She’d been dissecting a video on calculus, in an attempt to help Daniel with his lesson, when the phone rang. She dove for it.

  “Hello?”

  “Mrs. Dodd?” It was a woman’s voice.

  “Yes.”

  “This is Sheila Morris, office manager at the Cancer Center.”

  Her heart jolted. This was it. This was the call.

  “Dr. Thibodeaux asked me to set up an appointment for you. He said to tell you that he and the other doctors in the clinic had reviewed your proposal and were very interested in talking to you.”

  Brenda groped for a nearby chair and made herself sit down. It was happening. It was really happening. “Yes, of course. When would he like for me to come?”

  “He was wondering if you could come in at 5:30 this afternoon, after the clinic is closed. The doctors have a meeting scheduled for that time anyway, and they thought it would be a good time to talk with you.”

  “Yes,” Brenda said. “That sounds perfect.”

  When she got off the phone, she let out a whoop, then ran into the room where the children were working, and began laughing and dancing around. “I have an interview! It’s really happening!”

  Joseph got up and began to dance with her. “Mama, what kind of job is it?”

  “It’s the one I wanted, where I can work at home.”

  Leah and Rachel caught the excitement then, and they sprang up and began to jump up and down. Daniel just sat at his desk and grinned.

  She heard the back door open, and David came in. “Hey, what’s all the commotion?”

  “Mom’s got an interview!”

  Brenda abandoned the children and threw her arms around David. “The Cancer Center, David! They called! They liked my proposal and want to talk to me today!”

  David threw his head back and laughed then, and picked her up and twirled her around.

  Brenda had calmed down by that afternoon, and with the assurance from Cathy and Tory that they would be praying for her, she dressed in a skirt and blazer and went for the interview.

  It went better than she could have imagined, and within half an hour of arriving, she headed back to her car with a medical dictionary and each doctor’s tapes for that day’s transcription. If she delivered as she’d assured them she could, she could come in Monday morning to fill out all the paperwork, making her a full-time employee.

  There was no doubt in her mind she could pull it off.

  She sang praise songs as she drove home, filled with joy that the Lord had answered her prayers even better than she’d hoped or imagined.

  She immediately set to work transcribing the tapes, and had them all finished by noon the next day. At the end of the day, she returned them to the clinic, and picked up another day’s work. When she returned them at 5:30 on Friday, the office manager shook her hand. “Congratulations. Dr. Thibodeaux told me you’re hired. You can come in Monday morning to do all the paperwork to get you on the payroll.”

  Brenda didn’t need gas to get home that day. She could have made it on pure joy.

  CHAPTER

  Fifty-Six

  Within a week of the reconstruction surgery Sylvia felt ready to resume her life. The children came home for a visit, and when they were gone she and Harry decided to start a class at their church, a Bible study for those who wanted deeper discipleship. Sylvia decided that they should do a study of Jesus in the Old Testament, so she and Harry had set about to design a curriculum.

  They showed up at the church the night of their first meeting, hoping and praying that someone would attend. By fifteen till seven, the room was already full. Some of the men went out and began bringing in extra chairs.

  Sylvia’s heart soared as she saw Annie come in with Cathy and take one of the back row seats. A little while later, just after seven, Josh slipped in and took a seat across the room.

  Harry started teaching, and Sylvia threw things in whenever something occurred to her worth adding. Together they managed to hold the class’s rapt attention.

  “That went well,” Harry said as they drove home that night. “Who would have thought we’d have that big a group? Almost made me feel like we were doing as much good as we did in León.”

  “Me too,” Sylvia said. “I’ve felt so unproductive for the last few months. This revived my need to be used. I want to do more than a once-a-week Bible study.”

  Harry grinned as if that didn’t surprise him at all. “What do you have in mind?”

  “I’ve been thinking about what I could do during the day,” she said. “I was thinking that maybe I could volunteer at the Breezewood Development Center, where Tory works. I could teach the wordless book to the children with Down’s Syndrome.”

  Harry studied the road. “Are you sure, honey? The radiation might take a lot out of you. You don’t really want to commit to anything until you know how it’s going to be.”

  “Well, it can’t be as bad as the chemo,” Sylvia said. “Besides, if I’m a volunteer I can not show up once in a while and it won’t hurt anyone. But while I’m able, I want to bear as much fruit as I can.
”

  “Do you think Down’s Syndrome children that age would be able to understand the wordless book?”

  “Sure they could,” she said.

  He stopped at a red light and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I’m proud of you,” he said. “Most people in your shoes would be finding ways to indulge themselves to make up for the last few months, but here you are, trying to think of ways to fulfill the Great Commission.”

  “That’s what I’m here for. I’m going to go ask Tory as soon as we get home. She’s probably got her children in bed by now.”

  Tory’s garage was still open, so Sylvia knew it wasn’t too late to knock on the door. They usually closed the garage as their last task before going to bed at night. She knocked on the door, waited, and after a moment Barry opened it.

  “Hey, Sylvia. How’s it going?”

  “Couldn’t be better,” she said, stepping inside.

  “How was your Bible study?”

  “Just fabulous,” she said. “You should have been there.”

  “Well, we were going to, but you know how hard it is for Tory to leave the kids with a sitter. So we’ve decided that maybe we’ll take turns going starting next week. I’ll baby-sit and let her go, and then the next week she’ll baby-sit and let me go. Maybe we can keep up in the meantime.”

  “Sure,” Sylvia said. “I was thinking about taping it anyway. Whoever doesn’t come could hear the tape.”

  “That’s a great idea,” he said. “Come on in and I’ll get Tory.”

  Sylvia walked into the spotless living room and sat down on the couch. Tory was a perfectionist and never left anything out of place. But tonight she saw that a few toys lay out in the living room. Tory was loosening up a little, and Sylvia was sure that benefited the whole family.

  Tory came out of the back of the house. “Hey, Sylvia. How did the class go?”

  “It was fun, and it just thrilled me to be able to do something again. And it sort of started me thinking.”