Some days are worse than others

This week I had to tell a mom her daughter had cancer.

It did not go well.

When the patient checked in, I thought that “Fever, cough” indicated yet another flu victim. But as I heard the story and progressed through my exam, my suspicions grew. And as I left the room to put orders in, I told the nurse, “She has leukemia.” Twenty minutes later when I had the first of the lab results back, I got a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach knowing that I would have to break the news. The worst news. The news no parent wants to hear.

There is no way to predict how someone will respond. I expected tears. I didn’t expect what actually happened. It’s probably one of the most disconcerting things I’ve ever experienced to be the cause of that kind of reaction—screaming, fist-pounding, falling to the floor, more screaming. Top of the lungs screaming. Heart-rending screaming. Agony. I hated being the cause—even indirectly—of that level of anguish. I could do nothing to make it all okay, to make it all go away. In that moment, I was powerless.

Maybe that’s what I hate. Being helpless. At least when I’m suffering, I participate in the struggle, I have a role, I fight. But watching someone else grieve, watching someone else ache—I can’t fight her battle. It breaks me. So I pray. Because God knows what He’s doing. He holds that toddler and her mom just as He holds me. I’m trying to convince myself of that even as I type it. That I don’t have to have all the answers. I don’t have to be perfect. I have to present, and I have to be faithful. He will do the rest.

God has created me to do Him some definite service. He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission. I may never know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next. I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons. He has not created me for naught. I shall do good; I shall do His work. I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place, while not intending it if I do but keep His commandments. Therefore, I will trust Him, whatever I am, I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him, in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him. If I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him. He does nothing in vain. He knows what He is about. He may take away my friends. He may throw me among strangers. He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide my future from me. Still, He knows what He is about.                                       -John Cardinal Henry Newman