THE PATCHWORK QUILT

In the process of testing to see if more cancer could be detected, they found that I had big cysts on both ovaries; one the size of a baseball, and the other the size of a golf ball. Dr. Jacob, my gynocological oncologist, thought these weren't cancerous, but why not remove them? After all, at 54 years old, I didn't plan to have any more children, and the ovaries push estrogen, which feeds breast cancer. So, out the door they go. Since he was removing the ovaries, he said we should remove the whole works while we're at it, and not have to come back to complete the job in a few years. Because of the size of the cysts, and doctor didn't want to cut through them, this must be an old-fashioned, cut-you-open kind of surgery. So six weeks after my mastectomy, I was back on the surgery table again. I woke up in terrible pain, and when they asked me to get up and walk, I only made it to the door and had to get back in bed. But the nurses fixed me up with good pain meds, and I was on the mend. The cysts turned out to be benign (no cancer.) When we got home, we had more good food and visits from our wonderful network of ladies in the church.

A few days after my surgery, I caught a good look at myself in the bathroom mirror. I was beginning to look like a patchwork quilt, with all the seams running ever-which-way. But I thought, "So, who hasn't been comforted by an old patchwork quilt at some point in their life. Heavenly Father, you make me a warm comfort to people. You just stitch me up in any pattern you desire. I know the finished product will be something worth having."