Our Cancer Journey, Part 12: Where We Go From Here

This is the final installment of a 12-part post, sharing our leukemia journey. If you're just joining us, you can start at Part One here.

The Right Timing

It has brought me great joy to write out our leukemia journey. It was a long time coming! Honestly, I’ve known for a while that I wanted to write about it, but I think it was just still too real, too raw, for me to be able to write objectively about what happened. Of course, all experience is subjective, but I think the perspective I developed in waiting til now before writing about it was helpful. I hope you have found it encouraging, and I hope you’ll pass it along, maybe to someone who is going through something similar, for their encouragement.

As I write this, my dear leukemia-surviving husband is suffering with Influenza B, and is quite miserable. Even just a few months ago, I think this illness would have sent me into a terrified panic attack. I can imagine all the what-if’s I’d be running through: What if his immune system can’t handle it? What if he develops pneumonia? What if I come down with it—who will take care of him? But, much to my joy, I had none of these thoughts. The Lord has been so faithful in caring for us throughout this entire journey that my trust in Him has become quite sufficient to keep me calm and unafraid.

Different Wife, Different Life
I am not the same wife I was before my husband got a life-threatening illness. The trial brought on by this deadly, aggressive cancer has taught me a lot about my faith and the God in whom I have placed it; and I thought I had been through some pretty tough stuff already! Surely my battle with chronic pain and all the limitations that come with it would have humbled me, would have deepened my faith and matured me. That is true, but this trial of seeing someone you love—on whom you have depended for most of your adult life—fall  victim to an aggressive, deadly disease? Well that is a trial on a “whole ‘notha level,” as they say.  

John has always been my go-to friend; my buffer in difficult situations; my safe place to go when life is scary. Experiencing the most frightening thing in my life so far, without his strong shoulder to lean on, has taught me much about myself and about God. I’ve learned that in some ways and seasons, I have made an idol of my husband. In seeking comfort, solace, and protection in him, I have become unaccustomed to seeking it in God. Of course, our spouses are to be a source of all these things, but they should never be the primary source of any of them. I’ve learned through this leukemia journey that God is my refuge and strength, my very present help in trouble.   

John’s illness gave me the opportunity to learn this dependence on God through experience. Though the trials in my life had prepared me to some degree for this one, I don’t think there’s any way we are ever truly ready for such a challenge. The Lord had given me many opportunities to learn this dependence on him through previous trials, but I believe that in my self-sufficiency, I had come through most of them without really disciplining myself to depend on Him. This time though, there was no choice.

Learning Submission Through Love
I can’t tell you how many nights I sat on my back porch after coming home from the hospital and just cried out to God for his mercy and help. I cried for John’s pain and suffering, and I cried for my loneliness and fear. I cried for the possibility that I might never bring him home, and I cried for the loss of life as we’d known it, even if I did. Those were gut-wrenching nights, exhausting but humbling. In the end they left me softer, more willing to be shaped and molded by my Creator God, and more eager to submit to his loving will.

I’ve learned more about submission over this past year and a half than at any other time in my Christian life. But what’s taught me about submission wasn’t the practice I got in submitting. It was the overwhelming, awe-inspiring, all-encompassing love of God. He showed me in countless ways throughout this awful ordeal how much he loved me. He comforted me in my pain; answered my husband’s prayers in ways that deepened his faith; provided for my every need, and heard my pitiful cries. But most of all, he came alongside me and walked me through it. This is the simple, beautiful, perfect love of God: He is near.

I sensed God’s presence with me in ways I had never experienced before. But the wonderful thing is that this closeness, this intimacy with the Lord has remained with me as this illness falls further into the rear view. My God is my own now. The God of the Bible, whom I studied diligently to know; the God of the counseling room, whose Word I studied to show myself a competent counselor; the God of the universe, who inspires awe and wonder every time I open my eyes: That God became my God over the course of these two years. A distant God I'd known intellectually became my sweet Friend and Counselor; my Abba; my Jesus.

What’s Next?
In just a few short months, Lord willing, we will have a final bone marrow biopsy, and the doctors will declare John “cured.” (There’s even a gong he gets to bang, and a certificate involved! I’ll pop back in here then with the update, and possibly a video of said gong-banging!)  The lessons I have learned on this journey will stick with me. I know this because those lessons were not self-taught or learned from others. They were seeds of assurance, planted by the One who can guarantee their growth and longevity. I’m not worried that I’ll lose this deep relationship we’ve developed, because I am not the one who sustains it. Jesus is the creator and sustainer of all things, including my relationship with him, and He will hold me fast. Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Our Cancer Journey, Part 10: Reflections at the One-Year Mark

Last time, I promised you more details about all the answered prayer, and the many ways the Lord blessed us, throughout the time of our treatment. There are so many things to tell, it’s hard to know where to begin!

Blessed From the Beginning

For starters, the news of the leukemia was not the first time we’d heard there was an issue with John’s blood. He had actually begun to have some abnormal numbers in his routine blood work about 3 years previous to the diagnosis. While they continued to be a bit off, there was never really anything too alarming, so they just kept checking them once a quarter or so. John remained outwardly healthy and seemed perfectly fine, so the doctor wasn’t concerned other than to keep checking. Finally, there did come the day the numbers were alarming, and that led to the first biopsy, which confirmed the diagnosis.

Of course, having bad blood counts doesn’t seem like a blessing, but the knowledge and the monitoring allowed us to catch the disease early, before John even had a single symptom! In fact, when we arrived to check in at the hospital, the charge nurse looked at both of us and said, “Where’s the patient?” John has always taken pretty good care of himself, eating well and exercising regularly, so with no symptoms of disease, he looked normal and healthy. His good health was a huge advantage, and the doctors kept commenting how great it was that he had no high blood pressure, diabetes, or heart disease, as these can cause awful complications when undergoing treatment.  

A Wise Move

Another wonderful provision the Lord made for us is that we live so close to the hospital.  The University of Kansas Medical Center is just about 20 miles from our home. KU has one of the leading stem cell transplant departments in the nation, collaborating with other major centers such as John’s Hopkins. So essentially, we had a team of the best and brightest in the country practically in our back yard, and ready to pounce on John’s disease with everything they knew! We marveled then (and still do today) at God’s provision for us. When we’d moved back here to Kansas City (we’d both grown up here but had moved when John joined the Navy), we thought we were doing it so our kids could know their grandparents and cousins. But God had other reasons, which we wouldn’t know about for over two decades. We are so grateful that he moved us then, and that He let us think it was our idea!

Financial Provision

Shortly after diagnosis and the beginning of treatment came the discussion of how we would pay for it. John had been at his job for only a short time, and would not be eligible for short-term disability. After visiting with the finance person assigned to our case, we had a moment of panic: Would John keep his job? What would we do for income during the year of treatment, during which he would be able to work only sporadically, and that only if he was allowed to keep his job.  Providentially, that moment of panic was brief, as John was informed early on that his job would remain his, regardless of how much or how little he was able to work. He remained fully employed, and fully insured, throughout his treatment.

Even the insurance company was amazing. We had a Transplant Coordinator specially assigned to our case, and she called me every week to see how John was doing, and how she could help. Those calls were such a comfort to me, as I was very concerned about the cost of all this and how we would pay. It turned out our benefits were excellent, and each time I thought something might not be covered, I would get a call from the coordinator letting me know it was all taken care of. Of course, there are always deductibles and the out of pocket max, but even those are being provided by our good and gracious Father.

Early Wisdom Pays Off

One other side note about the finances: We decided early in our marriage that we would live well below our means. We’d agreed I would stay home with the children, so we always lived on one income, regardless of how much it was. This early decision proved very wise as we navigated this journey, and I am so thankful that I don’t need to go out and get a job to pay off our medical debt while supporting a lifestyle at or above our means. Just one example that careful, wise decisions made early in marriage will bear lasting fruit.

There are many more examples of God’s faithfulness to us during this time, but they will have to wait till my next installment. Meanwhile, won’t you take a moment and praise God for His provision in your life? I’m certain we are not alone in marveling at the goodness of God. If you’re reading this, you’ve had some trials in your life too, I’m sure. Why not take the time, right now, to praise God for the many blessings that have flowed from His nail-scarred hands into your life?

New Pain, New Gain

Do you suffer from some type of chronic pain or disability?  If so, then you know that fearful sense of dread and doom when a new pain or weakness arises. Perhaps you’ve gotten used to your “new normal,” whatever that may be, and you’ve come to accept—maybe even embrace—your limitations. But then, seemingly out of nowhere, some new pain arises, and you go into a panic.

I don’t know about you, but for me, it would go something like this: “Oh, no! Now what? Did I do something to myself? (At this point I’m wracking my brain for how I may have overdone it at some point recently.) Is this a further progression of my condition? Is this something new, separate from what I’m already dealing with? What new medication or therapy will this require, and how will I fit that into my schedule and budget?” As I’m going through all these questions in my mind, my emotions are revving up, and if I don’t get a handle on them, this will become a genuine panic!

Before I even know what I’m dealing with, I can let my emotions take over. When that happens, whatever twinge inspired the whole thing has become genuine pain because I have become so focused on it. Thankfully, by the grace of God, it has been a long time since new pain inspired such a vortex of emotion for me. God has given me many opportunities to grow in this area, so today I’ll share with you three things that may be helpful to you the next time some new physical affliction surprises you.

Don’t be caught off guard.

That very surprise is the first thing you must guard against. Even those who do not suffer chronic pain must always be prepared for the physical degeneration of their bodies. After all, we are all aging, and, as Paul says in 2 Corinthians 4:18 (AMP), “progressively decaying and wasting away.” So, why are we surprised when something goes wrong with our bodies? Are we especially entitled to have no further pain or physical suffering, just because we already have a lot of it every day?

No, my dear sisters, we are not. Our chronic condition does not win us any special privileges when it comes to the decay of our bodies, so we should expect that these new pains will crop up from time to time. You will be pleasantly surprised at the reduction in fear and anxiety that is produced just by taking out the element of surprise. When you are prepared in your heart for the eventuality of more pain, it loses its power to frighten you.

Set your mind on things above.

Did you know that, according to Colossians 3, you have already died? If so, then what are you fearing right now? Think about it: Deep under the soil of panic over a health issue is that root fear of death. Yes, there are surface fears of medical interventions, increased pain, and decreased capabilities. But underneath those things is a common-to-man fear that inspires them all.  Christ came to take away that fear. Colossians 3 tells us that, as far as this world is concerned, we have died and our new, real life is hidden with Christ in God.

So why do we act as though we are still in bondage to that fear of death? I believe it is because we do not follow the instructions of Colossians 3. We don’t set our minds on things above. We have our mind firmly fixed on just one thing on earth: Our comfort. We forget that, because we have already “died,” we can now live our real life, which is hidden with Christ in God. We have put on the new man, who is renewed in knowledge according to God’s image. We must train ourselves to put off fear and anxiety, and put on that new man, who knows that death is no longer a threat, and God can be trusted.

Get on with life.

As we set our minds on things above, we will be focused on bringing glory to God in our response to this new pain. Instead of focusing on symptoms and relief, we can look outside of ourselves, and into a world where there is pain and sorrow on a level that, by the grace of God, we will never know. How can we sit and stew over some new pain, when others are hurting so much more than we? This is the only time I would ever advise you to compare yourself to others. No matter how much you hurt, there is someone who hurts more. There is someone who has fewer resources than you with which to address her pain. There is someone who has less help; more responsibilities; and more limited mobility.

Begin today to train your heart and mind to fix your eyes on things above, not on things of the earth. Every new pain presents an opportunity to choose: Either you will trust in God, or you will trust in yourself. You cannot do both. God is far more faithful, trustworthy, and good than you or I could ever hope to be. Let’s be prepared. Let’s remember that our bodies will age, and let’s expect new issues from time to time. We can exercise proper care of our bodies, investigating the cause of new pain, but let’s take the fear out of it! The God of the universe, who created your body and knows it better than you ever will, is fully able to lead you through the process.

If you’re still having trouble trusting God, take a look at this video, where my friend Joni, who has been in a wheelchair now for 50 years, will give you some encouragement!