Testing, Probing, Prodding

Sometime during the two days I was going through diagnostic tests it dawned on me that this was just the beginning of the testing, probing, and prodding. According to the doctor I would be seeing a team of at least five doctors who with their assistants and teams would all be testing, probing, and prodding at me from now into the forseeable future. I couldn't imagine having to fight my way through with all these people, insisting on seeing the doctor first, then once again exposing myself to all of them while they figured out how they were going to save my life. Their ways didn't add up as any type of salvation in my book. They wanted to poison my immune system to push back the cancer and then take my breast from me and poison me some more. All with little promise of more time than I already had if I didn't get treatment. Extreem suffering with no reward. Not my cup of tea. Not that I blame them, they do what they know and have been taught, but I couldn't reduce my mind to think inside of the narrow box of conventional medicine. I watched afew women's stories on the net and saw them posing for before and after mastectomy topless pictures. How degrading! Anger flared up inside of me. How could this system reduce women to this and WHY do we let them. I am supposed to be poisoned, then cut, then poisoned again, probably barely making it through the experience and then turn around and thank them for saving me? I don't think so. Not for me. I also looked at the miriads of pictures of women with their reconstructed breasts. Even the best jobs looked butchered to me. Why would I give up what God gave me for that? I couldn't bring myself to face the inhumanity of the medical system. (Please understand I am referring to the system, not the doctors. There are some great compassionate doctors out there. I am not anti-doctor.) I knew God could guide me through it if He wanted me to do it, but I couldn't see Him wanting me to go through that. It wasn't for me. I became angry knowing women were going through this everyday, giving up their breasts on the altar of medicine in exchange for their lives. I felt they were being robbed. This was just another way the devil was robbing women when Jesus wanted to make them whole. Resolve began to build in my soul. I will see victory in this and then lead others to Him for healing. Oh, come Lord Jesus! Have Your way!