
[ April 20th, 2023 ] To Myself
This morning the doctors found a cancer cell in my mom’s chest. I read the text message while I was sitting at the DMZ checkpoint. I was staring at the huge blue arch that reads “The Path to Reunification” and I didn’t know what to think. I still don’t, which is why I’m writing this I guess.
So for the next 15 minutes on the bus ride to school, I tried not to cry–but I’m sure the Guy in the Puffer Vest saw my tears. “My mom is sick,” I wanted to tell him. But I didn’t want to tell him, too. That’s how I’ve been feeling all day. I want to tell the whole world so that everyone can gather around and support our family through this, and at the same time I want to hide. And then I fight these thoughts that say, “You shouldn’t go around parading your situation; people will think you are looking for pity. People will think you’re being overdramatic. It’s not that big of a deal.” Those voices want to deflect how I feel (and at the moment I’m still not so sure what that is), and keep me from talking about anything.
“Your friends care about you. Of course they want to know how your mom is doing. They care,” I keep telling myself. I’m not being overdramatic. I’m not being high-strung on red alert at every little thing. And to what am I comparing “big deal” with? Can cancer, in any form, not be a big deal? It’s a thing that’s caused so much pain and suffering in my family, especially for my mom.
I was so confident that it would be a very simple situation to fix, and there was nothing to fear.
Now it’s me that doesn’t want to say the “c word,” as though saying it admits that it is what it is and it’s in my mom. How can this be?
Put it in the Mysteries of God Box.
Yes, put it in that box. These are questions and mysteries not meant for us to dwell on. One day, God will let us know. But for now, we have to trust Him. “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope through the power of the Holy Spirit” (Romans 15:13 NIV). Who knew that I needed to memorize this scripture for this moment, not simply because I wanted to. God knew that I’d need at least one mighty strong scripture to constantly tell myself when this day would come.
And so, I trust You, God. I wrestled with You before I came to Korea. I was so afraid of something tragic happening to my family while I was gone for an entire year, but then I finally put all those worries into Your hands so that I could come here. It’s not that You said they would be in perfect health while I was gone. But You said “Everything’s going to be okay. I’ve got them.”
I don’t know how to properly write how grateful I am for You being…You. A God so reliable, so strong, so available and present. I may not be able to be in Texas with my family right now, but it was so amazing to pray, “But You can go for me.” And in that instant I knew You were with my mom–You were with my family on my behalf. What a relief! And how much better can You take care of them than me? I am so glad it’s You that I believe in. You, the One who goes before me.
Thank you.
[ May 1st, 2023 ] An update
The doctors have diagnosed my mom with stage 3 cancer, about the size of an egg and 1cm thick, sitting just below her collarbone beneath the breastplate (either on or around the Thymus Gland. Not quite sure on that right now). The tumor is wrapped around a precarious vein near her heart, causing large blood clots and swelling in her neck. Thankfully, the doctors performed an emergency vein stint surgery a few days ago which has reduced the swelling.
The biggest cancer hospitals in Texas refused to remove the tumor for its dangerous location, so my mom started chemotherapy faster than any of us were prepared for.
In two weeks, this situation has gone from “I think I have bad cat allergies” and taking a quick trip to the ER, to chemotherapy. It’s absolutely unbelievable, like a movie, but somehow my family is living it.
Each day the news changed, and is still changing. For now (Updated May 2nd), my mom will have 4 doses of chemotherapy every 3 weeks. Then it will be decided whether to operate or use gamma radiation to remove the tumor.
I haven’t talked about it for reasons I’m sure you understand, but also how quick everything changed. Now I’m opening up, also on behalf of my family, so you know how to pray for us.
How to Help
Please pray. “I’ll pray for you” isn’t a Christian way to say “I’m sorry”. It’s, “Let me pick up my sword and go to war for you.” So please, if you know the goodness of God, please pray for us. Pray for my mom! My dad! All of us; we are just like you. We don’t know what the heck is going on, and we need you.
Bring a meal, send a gift card to a restaurant, or donate financially at Mealtrain. If you love showing God’s generosity through acts of service, that’s a way!
Another thing…This is just so much for my parents to take in. If they don’t get back to you, please understand that they are processing the best they know how. But your kindness in any form will not go unnoticed during this time. I assure you.
As for myself?
Living here in Korea was already lonely before (normal for a foreigner who doesn’t speak fluent Korean and lives 20 miles from North Korea). Silence right now sucks. If you think of me, please reach out to me. I’m not afraid to talk about any of this, or Korea, or something dumb I said 10 years ago–even if we haven’t talked in said years–just know that you can still talk to me and I’ll be really happy about it.
One more thing.
Naturally, a lot of people are wondering if I’ll come home from Korea early. My contract ends on August 25th, less than 4 months from now. From the support and encouragement of my entire family, who all understand how hard I worked to get here and who know my heart and intentions, they have encouraged me to stay as long as I can. It’s beautiful and painful, more than I can even express. But I will try to stay. At any moment, I could go home. But right now, I will hold onto dear life to try and finish this adventure, even though I’ve found myself upon one no one wants to take.
Signed,
Allison the Adventurer
Such amazing and transparent writing. Thank you for sharing your heart. And thank you for causing me to memorize Romans 15:13. The God of all hope…,