I decided this year to transition my dental care from Kansas to Austin and asked a trusted Christian couple for a referral. During out first appointment, when she examined my mouth, she noticed a lesion on the right side of my tongue.

“Have you bitten your tongue recently?” she asked.

“I bit it a couple of weeks ago,” I replied, thinking that was the end of the conversation.

“I want you to watch it,” she said. “ It could be scar tissue, but if it’s not healed in a month, it will need to be biopsied.” She rolled away from me on her stool and looked at me from across the room. In a matter-of-fact tone, she said, “This looks like oral cancer.” I could feel my blood pressure rise.

“I am positive that I bit my tongue there, and it’s not the only time I’ve done so.” I said.

I started to feel irritated. Why would a dentist throw out the word “cancer” when she didn’t know for sure? Why didn’t she leave it at, “see me in a month if it’s not healed?” By the time I left her office, I felt angry. Some might say she’s doing her job, but I believe she could have done her job better. Most of us have enough stress in our life without having the word “cancer” planted in our mind as a hypothesis.

While driving home, I stewed about the whole encounter. If the lesion did not heal, where would I turn for the biopsy? Do dentists perform biopsies of the tongue or oral surgeons? She didn’t say, only that it needed to happen. Was I supposed to assume she would do it? I didn’t know where to turn if the lesion didn’t heal. I also struggled with why my growing anger toward her. By the time I got home, I realized it was because she seemed to lack compassion when she said it might be oral cancer. She came across as insensitive, and now I had to live with the word “cancer” while the lesion hopefully healed.

That night I prayed for three things:

• I asked the Lord to prevent the Enemy from using the word “cancer,” to have power in my life. I did not want to obsess over a “what if.”
• I asked the Lord to heal the lesion.
• I asked the Lord to help me let go of my anger toward the dentist.

The next four weeks I watched the lesion. It was healing – until I bit it again at the three-week mark. It was early April, and now the one-month clock started over. I can’t describe how frustrated I felt, but I had to wait another four weeks to watch the lesion in the same place begin to heal again.

The following four weeks I continued to watch my tongue–literally. It was showing signs of healing. I felt confident that this “cancer” scare was over. However, in the middle of the night, my cat jumped onto my bed and startled me. I happened to be sleeping on my right side and my tongue slid to the right between my teeth, and I bit my tongue—again. I felt cursed. The one-month clock started over, and what repeated in my head was, “cancer.” Every time the word, “cancer,” came to mind, I kept telling myself “That is not a fact. Until it is, you’re not allowed to worry about it.”

June arrived, and my tongue appeared to be healing. But now I felt mild pain at the lesion site. I rationalized that my tongue had suffered traumas from several bites. My game plan was to give it time. By early July, I could still see the scar tissue, and the pain became chronic. That concerned me.

My vacation was six days away, and the last person I wanted to call was my dentist. Instead, I asked my parents for a referral to their doctor to check my tongue before I left on vacation. His physician assistant was available three days before I left. I explained everything that had transpired since early March. She took a tongue depressor and her miniature flashlight to look at it. She was silent as she examined my tongue. She hemmed and hawed, unsure if I needed to be concerned.

“I see the lesion. There is an indentation there where a chunk of tissue is gone,” she said.

“I am not surprised. When I first bit it, it was excruciating.” I replied.

“I will prescribe a dental paste with an anti-inflammatory in it. But I’m also going to give you some referrals to some ENTs in case this doesn’t get better,” she said.

With my prescription in hand, I treated my tongue and felt immediate relief. By the time I stepped on the plane three days later, I was confident that this lesion would finally heal.

My confidence didn’t last, however. I felt confused. Though I was feeling relief from the pain, the white, milky scar tissue had changed from a small spot to a wider area on my tongue. My mind raced. Was the lesion healing or morphing into an aggressive cancer? I needed peace of mind, so on the day we didn’t schedule golf, I made an appointment with an ENT doctor in Santa Fe.

I shared my four-month saga with the doctor. He looked at my tongue wearing a special helmet that anchored a bright light and immediately said, “I see no features of oral cancer. It appears the membranes are healing and closing the gap. I am not inclined to do a biopsy of it.” I wanted to hug his neck, but I restrained myself and said, “I needed to hear good news so I can enjoy the rest of my vacation.” He informed me that the healing timeline was closer to eight weeks, which was also helpful.

I have spent hours processing this journey, and I want to share with you several lessons I learned:

1. The Lord commands us in Colossians 3:12 to “Clothe yourselves with compassion.” I am convinced that if my dentist had demonstrated more compassion, I would have had a different experience. This has spurred me to show compassion with others at every opportunity. We all need it.
2. Be careful with labels. This experience reminded me of my training as a professional counselor. Until you have a definitive diagnosis, you are wiser to withhold your thoughts from your clients unless they ask. Otherwise, you may be facilitating their anxiety. I spent four months fighting off the word, “cancer,” when it wasn’t a fact!
3. Be aware that Satan loves to mess with our minds. If someone hurts us with reckless words, remember that we are not up against “flesh and blood, but the powers of darkness.” (Eph 6:12) In these moments, remember, “If God is for us, who can be against us?” (Rom 8:31)

It’s time to clothe ourselves with compassion daily. The Lord will bring people into our life daily who need it. Let’s don’t miss them!

Blessings,

Lee Ann