Another Angel

On the day I called, You answered me;
You increased the strength of my soul (Psalm 138).

 Today is the feast of the Holy Guardian Angels, especially St. Raphael (his name means "the healing of God"), St. Michael (the Warrior) and St. Raphael (Messenger of God.)

I have always had a great devotion to my own Guardian Angel, who saved me from being kidnapped when I was five years old.  I probably have told that story somewhere along the way of this blog.  The story of St. Raphael's ministry of healing is told in the Book of Tobit which is not in the Protestant Bible, but it is a beautiful story.  

But this is the story of another angel, sent to me when I most needed help and comfort.  And I even know the name of this particular angel -- Chip Lassabe.  I hope he does not mind me telling this story.

From the time my cancer reappeared a year ago, I have not had any anxiety or worry, but only peace and even joy.  After all, I probably should have died in 2010 when my entire right lung was covered with a black mass --- and yet, I have had 16 wonderful years since then.  I figured I had had more blessings than I ever could have expected in that time, and I was ready to surrender now at 84, not really expecting to live much beyond that anyway.  The one issue I had not really thought about and dealt with was the idea of having to go on chemotherapy, although my doctor was willing to try an oral form instead of infusions.

Still, there was one day when I was totally unnerved, mostly due to confusion about what was happening and what to expect.  I received a phone call from "CVS," a name I naturally connected to the well-known drugstore, informing me that my insurance had approved the chemo drug prescribed by my doctor and that I could pick it up from any pharmacy.  This call was delivered by a "robo-voice" and there was no convervsation or explanation along with it.  Confused, I did not know my next step:  was I supposed to go to a CVS pharmacy ?  Our local pharmacy had closed a few years ago, and I did not know if there was a CVS anywhere locally.  I thought they had been  bought by Walgreen's.  

Was I supposed to go to Walgreen's and tell the pharmacist that I had lung cancer and that my insurance company had approved the drug?  I had no prescription to present to them; I did not know what to do, and for some reason that morning, the thought of telling the pharmacist that I needed chemotherapy overwhelmed me.  I started crying just imagining myself trying to explain the whole situation to a stranger.  The idea of being on chemotherapy more frightening to me than cancer itself.

In my confusion, I attempted to stop crying so as not to alarm my husband, and I opened a book lying on the footstool in front of me.  The first thing I read was a quote from Julian of Norwich, a 14th century mystic:  You shall see for yourself that all things will be well, and all manner of things shall be well.  Restless, and trying to get moving for the day, I closed the book and went to a table in my office where i picked up an old notebook, where I used to write notes during times of adoration of the Blessed Sacrament.  The notebook was open to the last entry, made at least a year previously:  You shall see for yourself that all things will be well, and all manner of things shall be well.

And then a third time that very morning, the same words appeared in the meditation book I used each day.  So I finally believed that God was sending me a definite message.  I cannot say I calmed down, but I did stop crying for awhile as I got dressed to go to Walgreen's.  On the way, I kept saying, "If only I had someone to talk to!"  I felt that I needed to release to pressure of approaching the pharmacist and telling him that i needed a chemo drug.  Somehow in the back of my mind, I knew something was wrong with this scenario, and that the pharmacist would know it!

When I got to Walgreen's, I sat in the car, again crying at the thought of trying to actually facing the reality of chemotherapy.  "If only I had someone to talk to," I said again.  At that point, there was a gentle knock on my window, and I saw a sweet looking young man peering in at me.  When I rolled down the window, he said, "Mam, I can't go in there and leave you sitting out here like this!  If you need someone to talk to, I'm here to listen."  

"I have lung cancer," I said, "but that's not the problem."  "Okay," he said.  "And I have to start chemotherapy, but that's not really the problem either," I said.  "I'm trying to understand," he replied through my tears.  "The problem is that I have to go in there and tell the pharmacist to order the drug."  (I never claimed that this would make sense!)  

After he offered to go into the drugstore with me, I realized that I just was not ready; I was still confused about the whole opearation.  Nothing made sense to me without a prescription! My "angel" finally said words that brought me absolute peace:  "You don't have to put yourself through this!  Drive down to the beach and listen to the waves and watch the birds flying in circles.  When you are calm and peaceful, call your doctor and ask what you are supposed to do now."  

I cannot tell you the instant peace and calm his words brought to me!  All of a sudden, I knew he had said the words I needed to hear.  I was taking on a burden that I didn't need to carry.  He wrote his name and number on a card for me --- he is an off-shore drill worker on leave for a few days.  And I drove off with peace in my heart.  His advice was 100% on target!  I arrived home joyful and ready for whatever came next.  And later that day, my doctor's office called me to tell me the drug had been approved and that they would deliver it to my home!  

You shall see for yourself that all things will be well, and all manner of things will be well!  (The words of Jesus to Julian of Norwich).  

On the day i called, you answered me and increased the strength of my soul!  (Psalm 138).