A Heaven-Sent Sign About My Brother’s Lymphoma

Laura Yeager is a two-time breast cancer survivor. Catch up on all of Laura's blogs here!

Things were going well. I’d just read my students’ midterm papers, and they were excellent – all As and Bs. My son was going to start college in two weeks. I was on spring break (ahh, time off). And I’d just found out that my brother’s lymphoma was slow-moving.

I was on my way to pick up egg rolls for my mom and Mike, my brother. As I was driving to the Thai restaurant, Sirius radio started playing. I didn’t have a subscription to it, but they were giving me a free sample. I had it tuned to the Broadway channel. Suddenly, a song from “Godspell” came on. It was “All Good Gifts.” The words touched my heart. I took them as a sign.

“All good gifts around us are sent from heaven above. So, thank the Lord, oh, thank the Lord for all his love.”

I started to cry. God, I was so lucky. I had beaten cancer twice; I had a wonderful husband and a brilliant son, two brothers who loved me, a wide circle of friends, and a 93-year-old mother who could still tap dance if she held onto the counter.

The best thing was that it seemed as though Mike was going to be OK. I’d gone through the cancer experience and didn’t want him to have to go through it as well, to deal with things like losing his hair and fingernails during chemotherapy. At least he didn’t have to have infusions. He was going to take oral chemo medication for his non-Hodgkin lymphoma.

Mike was going to stay with us on the planet. He was 67. He was going to have more years with us. Yes, all good gifts are sent from God.

I never dreamed that my brother would get cancer. When it happens to you, you’re very shortsighted. It’s almost as though you’re the only person in the world fighting the disease. And don’t get me started on support groups. I don’t like them. During my cancer years, I stayed away from them — too much complaining. I’d rather weather the territory alone.

I had a great oncologist. She and I went through my cancer together. She hugged me when I was afraid, made time to see me when I had discovered a suspicious spot or lump, and helped me fasten my brassiere after she’d examined me. I would still be checking in with her if she hadn’t retired. Her touch was healing. It was almost as if she had magical hands.

She was an interesting woman. She watched birds in her spare time — delicate little flying objects. Little gifts from God.

It doesn’t get any better than that, a woman who could cure cancer, who could practically sniff it out, who loved to go to foreign countries to observe beautifully colored birds.

I know a sign when I get one. Something comes over me, and I just know.

It’s been a while since I’ve had a sign.

All I can say is thanks.

For more news on cancer updates, research and education, don’t forget to subscribe to CURE®’s newsletters here.