Golden Years

Gray hair is a crown of splendor; ~ Proverbs 16:31a

As I sat in the sterile examination room this morning, my heart raced. I felt faint. Visiting the doctor does not always generate such anxiety. But with an imagination like mine . . . every ticking second felt like an eternity.

I tried to keep myself occupied by settling into the novel I have been chewing on for a week or so. Deep into the storyline, it was easy to escape into the lives of Lydia, Carol, Jacqueline and Alix. Their lives were in turmoil, from cancer diagnosis, to infertility, to marriage problems. The pretend drama seemed easier to cope with than the imagined drama of my own.

I heard a knock. The doctor entered the room, extending his hand. All smiles, he chatted about the weather and then proceeded to ask me about my ailment.

A lump. The one underneath my right arm. This is what brought me all the way to Modesto so early in the morning. With my nerves on edge, I took a seat on the examination table, and told myself to relax. As the doctor examined me, I don't remember speaking, or thinking . . . or even breathing.

"Nothing to worry about. It is a glandular swelling . . . it happens. Our bodies change into our thirties, forties and fifties . . . "

"Are you trying to say that I am getting old?" was my reply.

We both chuckled, and I decided that getting old isn't so bad. Even if it means fatty deposits tucked underneath my armpit. Getting older sure beats the alternative.

As I drove away this morning, I felt grateful for the free bill of health. I smiled with thoughts of God's comfort even through the week of uncertainty. If the news hadn't have been so promising, I know that God would have carried me through.

I thought about the thousands of women just like me who visited the doctor this morning - but left with an uncertain diagnosis. Somebody, somewhere heard the words "You have breast cancer." And for those women, I ached.

While I haven't found a gray hair to date, the affects of ageing are beginning to take their toll. I welcome the idea of growing old and gray. Rocking on a porch, immersed in a juicy novel and living a drama of my own?

Now that's golden.