My Anchor Holds
In Every Storm
My anchor holds is a comforting truth, in any difficulty. However, the greater the storm, the more you appreciate an anchor that is completely steadfast. Perhaps that is why I've made it the topic of this page.
On May 27th, my husband, Dennis, entered the hospital for lung surgery. We knew he had a mass in the upper lobe of his right lung, but neither a broncho-scope, nor a pet scan were able to definitively diagnose the problem, so surgery was necessary.
The whole crisis had started on the Saturday before Easter with an unexpected bout of pneumonia. That was only five days before we were planning to leave for a late spring mission trip to Puerto Rico. For all the details please explore dealing with change, and the other pages it links to, for the complete story.
The surgeon had assured us that if the mass proved to be cancerous he would need to take out the upper lobe of his lung, but if not, he would only remove one third of that upper lobe. We weren't given clear details of the length of the surgery, but we figured it would be between two and four hours long. All of Dennis's sons were there, and three of his four brothers, as well as one of our neighbors. My parents, who were traveling for a nephew's ordination, also arrived before he got out of recovery.
Six and a half hours later, Dennis came out of surgery. We were informed that they had removed the two upper lobes of his right lung, and inserted two drains. The diagnosis was Bronchioloalveolar non small cell carcinoma, for those of you not into medicalese, lung cancer.
Five days later, on Wednesday, they sent us home from the hospital with one drain still in his chest, and a sealed unit to drain it into. We were to see the doctor after the lung had sealed to have the drain removed.
He continued to improve on Thursday, but Friday morning his temperature started going up again, and he was almost as sick as when he got the pneumonia. I called the doctor's office, but they didn't seem concerned and scheduled an appointment to remove the drain the following Monday.
Dennis had been hoping to get it out that Friday, so it was a very long week-end for him. When Monday finally arrived, we left to get the chest X-ray and then go to the doctor's appointment. About twenty minutes away from home we realized we'd left the prescription for the x-ray on the kitchen table, so we had to go back for it, and that was only the beginning of a long downhill slide.
When we reached the hospital, and explained what had happened, they rushed us through so we were able to make the doctor's appointment on time.
The doctor did remove the drain as we had hoped...
But, he told us that Dennis had a very serious infection, MRSA (this is the infamous antibiotic resistant infection that kills people), around the drain and that he would have to return to the hospital for IV antibiotic therapy to get rid of it. We've been in the hospital ever since, and the doctors have told us we still won't be able to go home tomorrow because Dennis is still running a fever today.
However, we had a wonderful surprise! The next day, Friday June 10th, the doctors did let us go home although we didn't get there until about 10:30 p.m. Believe me that was a blessing we both appreciated!
My Anchor Holds
Security in Distress
We were thankful, but the infection ordeal was far from over. Dennis was on high powered antibiotics orally for another ten days. Even after he got off the antibiotics there was a place on the biggest incision on his back that hadn't closed entirely.
On Sunday night July 3rd it flared up again and we wondered if we might be starting all over. In this situation as in all of the previous ones, it was comforting to know my anchor holds.
However, when he had his follow-up appointments on July 5th the doctors seemed pleased with his progress. There were no abscesses inside, and the surgeon released him with the recommendation that he get a second opinion about further treatment for the cancer.
Although Dennis still hasn't completely recovered, I would say he is approaching 75 to 80% as of this writing. (But when I asked him the percentage of his recovery, he placed it at 35 to 40%, so the appearance of the recovery is higher than his perception of it.)
He was able to teach his Sunday School class again for the first time last Sunday, and he has returned to our normal attendance schedule as well.
We are thankful to be emerging on the far side of this latest storm, but you may be wondering...
What´s the big deal about an anchor?
Or perhaps, if you have our anchor, you already know...
The Lord Jesus is our anchor in the storms of life. We have been trusting him through these difficulties, and standing on the many promises of his Word.
My Anchor Holds
His Truth is Our Anchor
He has promised us:
He will never leave us or forsake us. I couldn't be with Dennis in surgery, but I could trust the Lord knowing that He was.
All things work together for good to us who love the Lord! Even cancer diagnosis and MRSA infections.
He knows the plans He has for us, plans for good and not for evil. At times, we can't see the good, but we can trust Him it is there.
His strength is made perfect in our weakness.
His grace is sufficient for every trial He allows in our lives.
In this world we will have tribulation, but we can be of good cheer because Christ has overcome the world.
I could go on and on, but I trust you have the idea. We are very thankful for the anchor the Lord has been to us during these past months. We don't understand much of what has happened and why it has happened, but we know God has His reasons for what He is allowing, so through every trial we can testify "my anchor holds".
My Anchor Holds
The future is always uncertain, and a cancer diagnosis makes that fact impossible to ignore.
But when we don't know the future, it is always a blessing to know the God who holds the future. We are thankful to have Him as the anchor for our souls during this time, since based on our relationship with Him, we confidently know...
My Anchor Holds!
Return from My Anchor Holds to Dealing with Change
Return from My Anchor Holds to Electrifying Mission Trips