This is the beginning of a recent article in the National Catholic Reporter. The link to the rest of it is at the end.
by Claire Bangasser on Jul. 31, 2012
I read an essay in the spirituality journal Sacred Space by a woman who sees God’s presence in the oncology ward where she works. It reminded me of the times I spent in a radiation lab after my breast cancer operation. I’ll always remember the kindness of the nurses, how gently they treated me. They moved around like angels who had chosen to become human for those of us who needed them.
I learned to use my radiation time to pray for those I did not like, for those who had hurt me, to be an angel to them as the nurses were to me. My prayer began as I passed through the lab doors and descended to the basement where the radiations took place. I sat in a windowless room where other patients also waited their turn. When mine came I paced into the radiation room, lay down on a slab under a huge light and let the nurse arrange me so the rays would hit the fresh scar on my breast like a laser beam in a James Bond movie. I was left alone with the buzzing machine, and I prayed for those whom I had let break my peace over the years. Those quiet moments felt like a direct line to God.