The Longest 19 Hours of my Life

Over the past day I experienced the longest 19 hours of my life. No exaggeration.

With the thought looming a few weeks ago that our medical insurance might disappear (another story for another time), I began scheduling as many appointments as possible. Not fun when you hate any sort of needle or anticipated pain. One of the appointments I scheduled was with a dermatologist to have a mole on my stomach removed. This mole had been there for several years with no problems, but looked a bit suspect.

After a lengthy wait at the dermatologist's office, I was ushered into a small exam room. The doctor strode in hurriedly and in a clipped voice said, "Well, let's see what you've got." I offered him a glimpse of my mole and, after a rapid-fire barrage of questions, he ushered me into another room for "surgery." "Surgery?" I questioned. Well, yes, he replied, albeit minor surgery. And then, like an emphatic period on his prior sentence he said, "This does not look good at all."

Not good at all? Hmmm...what exactly does that mean? And then I began to pray.

During the next ten minutes, the doctor jabbed a needle in the offending piece of skin, cut it out, and tied up the wound with a stitch. Twice more during the procedure he mentioned (as if I needed more fuel for my anxiety), "This really does not look good." My heart pounded more loudly each time he mentioned how not-good things looked and, perhaps finally noting my anxiety, the doctor seemed to soften a bit.

"Well, if you've had this mole for as long as you say and it has not changed, it could be a keratosis. But it would be an ugly keratosis. History is more important than the way things look," he acquiesced. "But I'll try and rush the lab results for you so we can find out what's going on by Friday--Monday at the latest."

Rushed lab results. A grimace on the doctor's face. That couldn't be good. In shock, I drove home to get ready for my women's accountabililty group. I was really, really scared.

The long and short of the next 19 hours was this. I prayed with some amazing women, I talked to God, I talked to my wonderful and supportive husband, and I realized that nothing touches my life that doesn't first pass through His hands. Whatever the outcome, God promises to be with me always. Yes, I had a sleepless night, but I also had the opportunity to put my trust in God in a new way, not knowing what the outcome would be.

Fortunately, this story has a moral and a happy ending. At 10:45 this morning the doctor called to tell me it is good news. The lab results came in early (gee, how sick did he think I was??) and it turned out to be a benign keratosis. Now it's really benign because it's gone! I am relieved beyond words, and more than a little grateful. Thanks, God.