Last month I had a phone call from my eye doctor’s office changing my appointment to April 24. I told the woman who called that I didn’t know if I’d be able to come because I would be having surgery for breast cancer on some yet unknown date. She responded, “Oh, I’ve just been on that same journey.”

Deloris* openly shared where she was on the journey, and we talked for a long time. She sent me a friend request on Facebook, and we’ve stayed connected. As it turned out, I will have exactly the same surgery she had, and the information she’s shared has been so valuable.

On April 24 I went to my eye doctor appointment eager to meet Deloris in person and eager to have this important appointment, as I have several issues with my vision.  When I arrived, the office staff handed me a form to fill out, so I went straight into the waiting area. I glanced at the gentleman sitting across from me, knew I should know him, but couldn’t get it.

So I began filling out my form. Soon the gentleman said, “So what are you reading today?” When he spoke, his voice was familiar and somehow I could tell he knew me.

“I’m reading a book by my new favorite author, Becky Wade. She makes me laugh and laughing is good.”

Before he could do more than agree, one of the office staff came to take him back to a treatment room. She told me later he said, “I don’t think she recognized me. She was in one of my grief support groups.” (I’m not sure he remembered my name either but at least he knew where I fit!) I remembered him then immediately. Amazing how difficult it can be to recognize someone in their “every day” clothes.

When I finished filling out my form and took it to the front desk, I asked if Deloris was there. When she turned and saw me, I greeted her, slipped over to her desk and spoke softly. “When I go to my surgery, should I take something to wear that I don’t need to take off over my head?” 

Deloris smiled and nodded. “You’ll be wearing button-down-the-front tops for quite awhile.”

I thanked her and went back to the waiting room. Regardless of what a small thing it might seem, it wasn’t a small thing to me. Thank you, Jesus for giving me this new friend who has been where I am.

As the courteous staff put me through a number of tests, one of which I’d never had before, I was also grateful to have an eye doctor in our town. Eventually, the young female optometrist came in to talk with me about the results of the tests. One of the issues she had mentioned last time I’d been in was that she suspected glaucoma, and they did a lengthy test this time.

She said, “If I were going just by what I see by looking at your eyes, I’d say you have glaucoma, but you can see perfectly. You have none of the vision issues that go along with glaucoma. We’ll check you again in a year.”

When I asked her about the cataracts that had been mentioned a few years earlier, she said, “Your cataracts actually shield your eyes from the UV rays that could make your borderline macular degeneration worse. (Thankfully, I have no problems with my vision related to this either.)  

“In that case,” I said, “leave them alone!”

She smiled. “Do you take eye vitamins?” (She had asked me last time and told me to keep doing what I’m doing.)

“I do take Eye promise but I’ll have to go off of it soon for two weeks because I’ll be having surgery for breast cancer.”

The doctor expressed her sympathy and I shared about the peace that God has given me. She asked for the date of my surgery and said, “You will be in my prayers.”

I went out to the front desk then with a glad heart for so much good news about my present vision. A woman who had been standing there said, “Well, hello, Daisy!”

Oh no, I thought, not again because once again I had no idea who she was. She didn’t even look familiar to me. Seeing my deer-in-the-headlights look, she told me her name. I recognized the name as a former neighbor on Plum Street whom I hadn’t known well. (I think if her husband who is a pastor had been at the counter with her, I’d have known them.)

Sally said, “I see in the newspaper that you’re continuing to write books.”

I smiled. “Yes, I do a blog too. Writing is such good therapy for me, especially since I’ve been diagnosed with breast cancer.”

 After expressing her sympathy, she said, “Didn’t you and your husband lose a son to cancer recently?”

When I said we had, she again expressed sympathy. I shared how hard it had been to tell our family about my cancer and that I was still trying to come up with a way to prepare our six-year-old granddaughter for my surgery. She assured me of her prayers.

Then Delores came over to take care of my co-pay. I told her again how much I appreciated her help and encouragement during this time. She said, “Of course, anything I can do. If you want to talk, I’m here.” She also gave some advice about one aspect of care she’d received that had been particularly helpful.

As I paid my bill and left, my cup was overflowing for all that God had provided for me during this one appointment. The complete opposite of how I’d felt as I walked away from my appointment with Dr. G’s PA the previous Wednesday. How thankful I am that God knows just how much we can bear.

Love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all.

(When I Survey the Wondrous Cross)

* (Name changed)