I have a confession to make, she told me. And with those simple words, she caught my attention.

My name is Nancy and I am a Breast Cancer Survivor.

In a medical mission in Tambo, Paranaque last May 24 2009, a 65 year old woman came up to me complaining of numbness on her right and left hands. With a history of breast cancer status post radiation therapy, status post surgery, before I could even speak, she told me up front that whatever tests I was going to order for her she will not be able to afford it. She had no money.

Discussion closed.

So I told her a bunch of technical stuffs like recurrence, Batson's plexus, and statistics to scare her until halfway I realized, how pathetic I was.

This is human being who told me she just survived something horrific in her life. Someone who just went through hell and somehow among all the physicians in that room, she wanted to share her story with me.

So I stopped talking and started listening. Intently. About how difficult it was without money even in the Philippine General Hospital. About how the 4 other women she was in the same room with in PGH eventually fell to the disease.

I listened as she told me how she was transformed by the grace of God and how she was willing to serve him until the end.

It was at that moment amidst the noise, the confusion and the squalor that pervades all medical missions that I realized, I had a lot to be thankful for.