The Sound of My Own Voice

THE SURGERY WAS ONLY PARTIALLY SUCCESSFUL, and my doctor’s words to me as he signed the forms to release me from the hospital were, “Keep a positive attitude.” Right.

I BEGAN TO READ everything I could about people who’d survived cancer.

WHILE THERE ARE MANY ACCOUNTS written by the grateful and the jubilant who were able to use their positive attitude to survive, darn few told the reader how to put a winner’s slant on life. So I decided what the world wouldn’t deliver to my doorstep, I would have to create for myself.

ONE THING WAS CLEAR, I needed dwell on what was possible. Fear triggered stress. Stress retarded healing. I had to find a way to substitute hope for fear. And I had an idea how to do that.

FOR YEARS I HAD SUBSCRIBED to a prayer guide that was filled with affirmations. Over the years I had accumulated several that seemed especially hopeful, and these I recorded. I had forty minutes of positive thoughts and healing commands, and every night and every afternoon I listened to them.

SOON I FOUND that the ideas on that tape were so ingrained that when someone said something thoughtless (like “it’s God’s plan, or you can’t deny your fate,” etc.), I would respond with one of the thoughts on my tape.

WHEN YOU HAVE CANCER, there are many, many dreadful places your mind can carry you. Tumors seem to be sending out deadly missiles to all parts of your body. You wake up in the early hours envisioning cancer taking over all your vital organs.

I REFUSED TO ALLOW MY MIND DWELL in those dark places. A positive attitude was all that I could do about what was happening to me, and I had to develop a way of thinking that left no room for doubt. From what I’d read, it was the thing most likely to keep me alive.

AT THE FIRST INKLING OF FEAR, the earphones would go on my head, and the play button would take me to a place of healing and love. I had a future to look forward to. God loved me. He was with me. I had no reason to be afraid. Healing and restoration were going on in my body every moment of every day.

THE CANCER DID NOT BELONG TO ME. It represented only a tiny part of my otherwise well and beautiful body, and would, in time, be ushered out by the health that was increasing in me each and every day. No matter outward appearances, I would be healed. I would move forward in confidence even if I could not see the way.

AND I LEFT BEHIND THE ME who had doubts about her faith. The me who had difficulty staying in touch with God. The me who often only went through the motions.

THIS WAS A TEST, and I would turn all my energy toward it because failing was not an option. And somewhere along the line the old me would be left so far behind that later I would have trouble remembering her.

You’re blessed. Be a blessing!