After three years of courses, research, and writing, in March I turned in the final draft of my doctoral dissertation. The next day I went in for an MRI on my back because – I assumed – sitting at a desk for hours on end WRECKED me. I jokingly told my advisors during our last meeting that I had seriously underestimated the toll writing a dissertation and working full-time would take on my body. Bless my heart. It turns out my body was a bit wrecked, but not in the way I expected: the MRI showed a perfectly good spine…plus a mass on my ovary and several enlarged lymph nodes.
A week later my dissertation was formally approved by my advisors at Duke – on the exact day I was diagnosed with stage 4 ovarian cancer. The universe pulls some crazy sh*t, man.
I am a relentlessly happy and optimistic person. You know this about me. It can drive some people crazy, or so I’ve been told. I can silver-lining the crap out of almost any situation and mean it. Of course the glass is half-full. Duh. But last weekend, when my Duke cohort was donning their new hoods and Harry Potter hats at Duke Chapel in North Carolina, I was recuperating from Round 2 of chemotherapy in the comfort of my living room in Colorado. I was sad the whole day, and truth be told, the whole day before too. The only silver linings I could find were that I didn’t have the stamina to sit through the ceremony, and that those adorably dorky velvet doctoral tams wouldn’t have fit on my beautiful bald head anyway. Not much consolation.
I settled for watching the ceremony online with Tim and my sister, Adina. and I was in awe of the pomp and circumstance not to mention the achievements of my beloved cohort, all with their uncontainable joy on full display. We sang the hymns, and said the prayers, and I even raised a glass (half full!) for the first time in months to toast the new Doctors of Ministry. I felt so proud to be part of an institution like Duke University and the Duke Divinity School, in particular; I am so humbled by my brilliant cohort and professors. I cannot believe the grace and support I received from the staff and congregation at Snowmass Chapel these past three years to get me here, nor my great good fortune to have been called to serve such a special church. There were tears. Some tears of sadness, yes; but also tears of joy and acknowledgment of the blessings that continue to surround us even in the midst of trials. To quote the letter of James, I am lacking in nothing*. In the end, watching the ceremony was a beautiful way to celebrate the culmination of years of hard work, and I’m so grateful to have been “there” in my own way. Life goes on, and we just keep showing up for it, don’t we?
One thing earning a doctorate taught me for DAMN sure is this: I know how to persevere through a challenge. I can set a goal, meet deadlines, and do hard things. Do I always WANT to? No, I do not. But when it really matters, I just keep showing up. Which is how I know I will make it through this cancer journey.
I guess what I’m really wanting to say is this: you can now officially call me Reverend Doctor Charla Belinski, Ovarian Cancer Warrior, class of 2023. I sure as heck didn’t see it coming, but it has a nice ring to it doesn’t it?
Love you all!
*My brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of any kind, consider it nothing but joy, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance; and let endurance have its full effect, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking in nothing. ~James 1:2-4 (Message version)
Kick it with Charla 
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