ON THURSDAY I stood by with other members of our family as a dear niece, still in her thirties, had surgery for breast cancer. Almost seven years ago, she lost her mother to the same disease.
The emotions of the morning . . .
. . . were deep.
Concern: A neutral word for a subdued kind of fear.
Distraction: We talked of other things to occupy our minds as the hours slipped by.
Relief: When the project was complete and early tests were negative.
And finally, thanksgiving: To God and His instruments in this enterprise, the medical professionals.
You and I are blessed to live in this time and place. In centuries, even decades, past, the diagnosis would have been given with little hope. Now odds strongly favor the patient.
The professionalism, efficiency, and courtesy of the treatment team at M.D. Anderson were remarkable. The cold bureaucratic and technical machinery necessary to such an enterprise was kept out of sight. What the patient and family experienced was warm and human.
It cannot go unremarked that the costs of the treatment were borne without complaint or compromise by the husband's employer-sponsored private insurance coverage. Through the husband's own labor, he generated the premiums that purchased the insurance that financed the medical care that is healing his wife and the mother of their three children. He met his responsibility, bringing honor and dignity to himself and his family.
Let's resolve to give more this year to the cancer charities. A good candidate is The University of Texas M.D. Anderson Cancer Center, Post Office Box 4486, Houston, Texas 77210-4486.
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