The first time I was told I had cancer; I thought my life might be ending. I remember thinking, I can’t die now, I have unfinished projects everywhere I look, who will finish them? And I had always assumed I would be here to take care of my wife when we got older. Who will do that if I’m not here?
After prayer and consideration, I came to realize that there isn’t really anything that won’t get by without me. I was mentally preparing my self for the end. You reluctantly try it on for size, wear it around for a while, and with God you can say, “If I must, I can do this.”
I had surgery and recovery, and after a while I thought my life might go on.
Time passes and you start thinking, “Maybe I will be around a while, maybe even a long time.” So you wear that around and get used to it.
Then came the second cancer, this one incurable. Those words are devastating, but good or bad (bad or worse), I have God’s peace. I remember the moment it hit me, the peace that passes all understanding. You can learn about it here – Philippians 4:7. I’d rather not have cancer; I’m in no hurry to die, but here on earth, the mortality rate is 100%.
I’m tested every three months. After stable, stable, and continuing stable, it’s easy to cast your focus a little farther out and think again, “Maybe I will be around for years.”
The difference between 1.2 and 1.8 is such a small number, but enough to bring a (Smoldering) Multiple Myeloma patient back for more testing, x-rays, waiting for the next answer (and the next question), and realizing again that this could be the beginning of the end.
I feel like such a wimp when I read the blogs and posts of other Multiple Myeloma sufferers, they’ve been through so much. I’ve been enjoying a fairly normal life, quietly smoldering a year and a half; that’s easy. These MMr’s are experienced and decorated medical combat veterans. Most have had serious medications, agonizing treatments, terrible side-effects, lives completely upended, and eventually – finally, death.
I read one Multiple Myeloma blogger’s list of stages he predicts most of us will go through. There was not one mention of Jesus, no peace from God. How sad for him to face this (and eternity) without joy. His only hope was in doctors and medicine. I like doctors and medicine (and insurance!), but regardless, one day I will die.
I remember hearing it said of someone who survived a great tragedy, “God was surely with them!” But, then I wondered about those who didn’t survive, was God not with them? If they were believers, God was with them also. I realize that because he is always with me. Going in or out of the hospital, going in or out of cancer, going in or out of life, His presence is undeniable. This cancer experience hasn’t been any fun, but through it, I’ve enjoyed the strength and comfort from God’s Peace. Thank you for your prayers for Diane and me.
Monday, I go for another bone marrow biopsy. This is where the roller-coaster starts to get exciting!