Surrender Your Sensations

I slowly walked into the hospital church.

I expected it but it still hurts.

My biopsy results stated it was malignant and the stage of my cancer was in grade two or three. Further tests would be conducted to assess my cancer’s grade.

Eian suggested mastectomy again as my only way to free myself from the curse of cancer.

I think that’s what bugs me the most. Wasn’t it enough that I would go through the fight against cancer again? Why did I even have to remove my breasts?

When I was in the first row of seats, my cellphone in my pocket vibrated. I checked it and my heart ached to see my Dad’s name on the caller ID.

“I’m sorry, Pa.” I turned off my phone.

Right now, I wanted to be alone first. I wanted to deal with the turmoil in my mind and the heavy pain in my heart by my own. I just wanted a time to accept my biopsy results.

I sat on the empty pew in the second row and turned my gaze at the big cross in the middle of the church’s altar. The hands on my lap turned into fists while Eian’s voice echoed in my head.

‘This tumor is big, Meredith. This will require chemo, surgery and radiotherapy. This is a second or third grade cancer. It may also spread to your lymph nodes. I’m afraid this is more difficult than before. ‘

I didn’t care about the difficulty, to be honest. I just wanted to be okay again, no matter what it takes. I wanted to be okay again for the people around me.

‘The tumor can spread fast. As much as possible, we have to stop its proliferation. Your left breast doesn’t look good either. Think about having a mastectomy, Meredith. A contralateral prophylactic mastectomy to be exact. ‘NôvelDrama.Org content.

I took a deep breath. I felt like I had a sore throat now because of my suppressed cry. There were a lot of options to take but I never expected that mastectomy would be offered to me.

“Is this Your plan?” I asked the cross. “To make me suffer for the second time around and then, only to remove these breasts at the end?”

I chuckled bitterly. When Eian told me about my options, especially about mastectomy, I thought of nothing but Rupert – my fiance.

Would he love me still if there’s something missing in my body? Would he still want my body when it’s no longer the same? Would he still touch me like he always does after my mastectomy?

Could I still satisfy him? After the mastectomy, would I still be enough for him?

There were so many things running in my mind and so many questions that I was afraid to know the answer. What if Rupert leaves me? I’m sick and I don’t have breasts. How fucked up of a fiance am I? How fucked up is this?

“Should I trust You? This time, should I just rely everything to You?” I asked the Lord- the one who promised to save us all.

‘Meredith, we have to do the treatment right away. I don’t want to say this but you may have to stop everything you’re starting now.’

“I’m just starting again but I have to stop everything again? I don’t want to.” I lowered my head before slowly letting the tears to escape my eyes, “I want to continue everything. I want to pursue what I wanted. Will You help me?” I looked up again at the cross on the altar.

I forced myself to smile but the sobs escaped my lips. My shoulders started shaking and I cried in front of Him.

“Can you hear me? Why did it had to be me again? Why do I have to do it again?” I covered my face and let myself cry. “I was trying … I was trying to live.”

I didn’t know how much time was spent. I just cried and begged Him. I cried my heart out- because after this, I had to be stronger and braver. Not just for myself but for the people who would join my fight again.

Most importantly, to the man who offered me marriage and asked me to spend the rest of our lives with each other.

“He listens to you, Miss. He will not forsake you.”

I raised my head to see who said that. I was stunned to see an old woman sitting at the other end of the pew. She was looking at the altar while holding a rosary. She was wearing a hospital gown and she was carrying her IV by her side. Was she there before?

Then and there, the moment when I met Angela came back to me. It’s almost the same scene- I was in deep pain and then Angela consoled me.

I stared at the old woman. Her face was blurry but I couldn’t help but to stare at her face. It’s not scary like those blurred faces of strangers I interacted with. Somehow, there’s something light about her.

“I didn’t have breasts when I was thirty because of cancer. It wasn’t easy and it was very hard to accept. My husband also left me because of that.” Then, she turned her gaze at me. “But do you know what I learned from that incident?”

I found myself asking, “What?”

“I shouldn’t be angry with myself because I got sick. I shouldn’t be angry with God because I got sick,” she took a deep breath before she extended her hand to reach me. She was giving me something, It was the rosary, “People who truly love you will stay no matter how difficult the situation is. Don’t push away those who want to stay by your side. Let them accompany you through pain and hardship. It will be easier for you to fight then.”

She stood up after sharing that. She left her rosary with me and I watched her leave.

When she was gone, I looked at the rosary I was holding. Something caught my gaze. There’s a little ribbon wrapped around the little cross of the rosary. My mouth dropped open when I saw the name on it- Marinella .

It was my mother’s name.

My tears flowed again but I smiled. I looked up at the large cross in front of me. “I will trust You. Please don’t drop my hand,” I murmured, holding the rosary tightly in my hand.

Concurrent with my decision to trust God was my decision to ask Rupert again about our marriage.

I would tell him about the mastectomy procedure. I would remind him of the difficulties of being with a sick woman like me.

If he still wanted to stay and marry me, I would do everything to live.