Yesterday I went to the Dermatologist. I wanted a very unsightly skin tag (insert gag here) removed before I leave for vacation. We are taking our two youngest to a place in the country to do nothing but swim. Hence, the need for the dreaded ST (can't even say the word) to find it's way into the rubbish bin in my Dermatologists office and no longer dangling from my body in a place where one can see the nasty little thing near the strap of my bathing suit. Trust me - it's not pretty. Enough said.
My plan:
1. Wear a sleeveless shirt so Herr Doctor could look at the awful ST, remove it, and discard it all without me having to remove my blouse.
2. Leave feeling like a rock star.
What really happened:
1. I forgot to wear a sleeveless shirt. Hence, the removing of it ensued.
2. Upon the removal of said shirt, my Doctor immediately by-passed the ST that I was so focused on only to be mesmerized by another "spot" on my back.
3. No words, but a quick looking over the spot with some weird looking bifocal thingy led him to ask me how long that spot had been there. Hello? I'ts on my back; I had no idea.
4. He proceeds to explain that ST will not be removed today (really?) because the spot on my back is - in his opinion - first stage melanoma. So concerned about this pesky little spot he proceeds to give me statistics about his professional track record. Apparently, he has had only one case in the last 5 years that he has felt confident enough to diagnose without a lab result. I was the one.
5. I stopped him. At this point we had been speaking German so I asked if we could switch to English to make sure I was getting all that he was rather excitedly saying.
6. He then asked me what my plans were for the next two weeks, explaining that only lab results would affirm his diagnosis. He would need to do a surgical procedure to remove the affect area. My wound could not be wet for the next 2 weeks. Follow up would be needed.
7. I explained our plans for a water park vacation and then after a quick turn-a-round we would be leaving for the U.S but would return August 3.
8. He had no intention of me leaving the office without having the procedure done. He was insistent. So much for the water park next week.
9. The next thing I knew I was signing a document (in German) stating my approval of the medical procure, was ushered into the sterile operating room, was asked if his nurse could come in and view the spot. Apparently she was new and he wanted to show her a classic case of first-stage melanoma. Yippee. Lucky me!
10. Anesthesia administered, cutting began, stitches followed, and minutes later I was back at my apartment (I live right across the street from the office).
Whew!
We had people coming over for a planning meeting and dinner needed to be prepared and issues needed to be discussed. Afterwards, my group of friends and I headed to a local ice cream shop for my favorite seasonal delight within walking distance. And then they left and I walked home.
Alone with my thoughts, I let the events of the doctors office unfold in my mind and tumble out into the air. It's then I realized how unprepared I was for the turn of events that had only hours earlier transpired. I had had a plan. My plan got shoved into the background and I had no control over the circumstances. It took me by surprise. It shook me a bit. "God, I wasn't planning on this. Everything changed so quickly."
It's then I heard HIM say, "I know, but I never change."
It could have been another doctor with another cancer diagnosis like dear friends have recently experienced. It could have been something to loose some sleep over. It could have been - worse. It could have been any number of things - all of which I wasn't expecting.
I felt small and God felt big. Real big. And then I felt grateful. It's just a spot of skin cancer.
Oh that we may know the futility of our plans. God is always in control. We say it - often with conviction. We mean it - when it happens to others. We recommend it - as a way of doing life. But - when things out of our control happen to us - and we somehow didn't see it coming - semantics become different in our minds. Its then we must discover what we really believe and Who is really in control.
Yesterday, as I sat on the operating table while my Dermatologist cut the spot out of my back, I had dialogue with the Holy Spirit. I wasn't freaked out. I wasn't challenged to believe this was not God's plan for me. I was just - small. Small thinking keeps you always sure your plans are "your plans". Somethings it takes a spot of skin cancer to remind you.
Still sporting my SG,
Chrisitna
