HERE WE GO AGAIN

Here we go again on this rollercoaster ride.

A few days ago I found a new lump where I had my previous one. The feel of it sent shivers down my spine and weakened my knees with fear. For a moment there, my vision darkened and it felt like my heart fell to my toes. I was trying hard to remember all the encouragements I received, all the brave words I uttered but they almost eluded me.

The doctor has advised me to observe the new lump for two more weeks. He seems somewhat hopeful that it is just an effect of the radiation. In the meantime, I choose to focus on God's promises.

Thankfully, it is just a ride and I know it. It's a momentary play of emotions and sensations but I know that below me is solid ground where I can firmly plant my feet on.

RECLAIMING LIFE

My chemotherapy is done and so is my radiation therapy.

I am getting ready to go to church with my family, just as I have been doing for many Sundays of my life. Today, it has sweeter meaning because I have a better understanding of what family is, what love is, what Christianity is, what life is all about.

It is so ironic that it was when I was at the lowest point in my life that I understood all of these things and embraced them passionately.

I know the road ahead is tough. I never meant to trivialize cancer and what it has done to me and my family, to other people's families. I am sure there will be days of doubt and uncertainty.

Days of pain.

Days of wondering why.

Thankfully, I now have a deeper knowledge of God’s grace and His pleasure to bless me. I am home with my family. I am surrounded with relatives and friends who care for me and want to see that I get well. I have learned to value myself more.

I have all I need to reclaim my life.

THE CANCER SHOW

Today I was interviewed for The Cancer Show. It's a documentary about cancer survivors in Cebu that was put together by a dear old friend, Bien Fernandez. I was interviewed by Meanne Alcordo Solomon, herself a survivor.

My segment was supposed to be an insight into the life of a survivor who is currently undergoing treatment. I came in with my usual hat and scarf and was asked to remove them towards the end of the show, to show my spanking new hair growth.

In the second half of the segment, the directors asked to interview my husband on his perspective as the spouse of a cancer patient. Bong was very candid and I could not help but notice some of the audience wipe some tears from their eyes.

THE CANCER BLOG AND MY 15 SECONDS OF FAME

It’s safe to say that I have had three therapies for the treatment of my cancer: chemotherapy, radiation therapy and "blog therapy." Among the three, the last one has provided me with the most satisfying relief while coping with this rollercoaster ride I’m now in.

In the beginning, this blog was meant to be nothing more than a personal journal for my children and future grandchildren to read. However, weeks into my treatment, friends would send me text messages asking how I was, and so this blog became my way of updating them about what I was going through.

Eventually, as post came after post, and as days turned into months, friends, relatives and strangers alike started telling me how they were touched by the stories that I had to tell. At this point, blogging had evolved from being my way of venting out feelings into sharing anecdotes and insights with hopes that someone else other than me would find healing and hope through my daily encounters, struggles and triumphs. My cancer journey had become not just my own, but everyone else’s who cared to share the walk with me.

Today, my other blog, Canvas and Manuscript and I are featured at www.thecancerblog.com in an item entitled Cancer Survivor Blogs Life as a Canvas. I don’t know where this will take me and the stories that I have told here, but if its my way of sharing “to the ends of the earth,” then so be it. I am more than grateful that I have been given this opportunity of telling the world that, among other things, God is good and life can be beautiful and meaningful during, and after cancer.

A DOSE OF RADIATION

As I am nearing my thirtieth and last dose of radiation, I decided to take a video of the whole seven-minute-or-so process. The session normally begins with the nurse retracing the markers on my chest and axilla. When the lines have been redrawn, the nurses spend some two to three minutes to make sure that the red tracer lights are perfectly aligned with the lines on my chest. After that, they all leave the room and the shots of radiation are administered from two separate angles.

Next week, on my last week of radiation treatment, the radiotherapist will give me direct radiation shots on my mastectomy site for five days. I heard somewhere that this new practice of administering a concentrated dosage of radiation on the last week of treatment actually reduces the possibility of a recurrence even more.

CANCER STORIES AND HAPPY ENDINGS

For so long as I can remember I have always loved reading books.

Books have always been a major part of my life. They have brought me to unknown places, introduced me to some of the most interesting people that I would otherwise never meet. I have always been thrilled by how words would plunge me into images of formidable stone castles, alien territories and of course, the anticipated happy endings. Love stories, ghost stories, espionage, history…I love them all.

These days though, I am reading "books" of a different kind.

At the Cebu Cancer Institute, every morning for the past twenty days, as I patiently wait for my turn at the radiation room I have been "reading" people.

Occasionally, I "read" about the young wife who is brought in by ambulance every morning from the Seaman’s Hospital, and her husband who has taken a leave from his work to be with her. In the first few days of my treatment, she would be brought in on a wheelchair with a smile for everyone. Lately, however, she has been wheeled in on a hospital bed with an increasingly dazed look on her face. Her husband who is always clad in a baseball cap and shorts, is equally dazed as he holds up the bag of blood attached to his wife. I have heard the whispers that her cancer was too advanced when it was discovered and that they are now taking desperate moves. I can just imagine him endlessly mulling over the irony that he spent long months away from her so that they can build a happy future together. Only to come home to her now this way.

On other days, I "read" about a doctor’s wife whose breast cancer has just recurred, this time on her bones. She is a little older than me and everyday she comes in with her mother. I "read" about the mom who is a nutritionist and has much advice to give us. After all, not only is she a dietician but also a doctor’s wife. She could spend hours and hours talking to all of us about the wonders of broccoli and the wisdom of going to a surgical oncologist and not just a surgeon. What touches me though is that every so often, when no one seems to be looking, she would stare lengthily in space with a blank look and tears in her eyes, slowly shaking her head in what must be regret that she didn’t know enough to prevent her daughter’s recurrence.

Some days, I "read" about the middle-aged school principal who has come from Iloilo for treatment for advanced Lung Cancer. Her husband has been a smoker all these years and the secondhand smoke is what must have brought this upon her. I "read" about the absence of any sort of blame that she might hold on her husband, understanding how deep her love for him must be.

Most recently, I have been "reading" about the new patient from Iloilo, who is a nurse. She first had breast cancer four years ago but, optimistic person that she is, she was sure it would not return. Just this summer though, she found another growth on her left breast. Before she could complete chemotherapy for the second cancer, she found another recurrence on the first site. She told me the other day that someone told her that she has the gift of healing and she attributes her cancer to a failure to complete a session on Pranic Healing that she once conducted. Or something to that effect.

I "read" about how cancer has changed these people’s lives. I "read" their words, their thoughts, their silent prayers. I "read" their trials, their disappointments, their dreams. I try to catch the underlying fears behind the brave fronts…the unspoken mother’s love for a sick daughter…the young husband’s silent resolve to give his wife the best possible care, never mind that he doesn’t know where the next thousand pesos will come from…the stories behind the empty looks that cross everyone’s face, every once in a while.

As I read these stories, I watch for every opportunity I get to hopefully change as many endings as I could. I tell these people about God’s faithful provision in my life. I tell them about the father heart of God and how it is not in His character to inflict pain on His children. I tell them about the true gift of healing that is God’s pleasure to give. I tell them that it’s okay to put ourselves first this time, and that our families and concerns will take care of themselves. I tell them to go ahead and receive openly the love and support that other people give. I tell them that a positive attitude can make so uch difference. I am hoping that as they change their outlooks and seek God as their healer, they will find their own healing. After all, I always loved happy endings.

Everyday, so much stories unfold before me. Everyday, I leave that place a little more enriched by what I have learned. Everyday, I thank God a little more for my ever-growing assurance that He is in control of my life.

Ten more days of radiation therapy, and reading lives, to go.