Family.

This morning in church the sermon was about family, and over the past several days my family has been on my mind more often than usual.  A diagnosis of cancer initiates a dizzying emotional odyssey of ups and downs, highs and lows and everywhere in between.  It impacts not only the patient but the rest of the family too.  Husband, wife, brother, sister, father, mother, grandfather, grandmother.  For most of us our immediate family is the source of our most cherished and intimate emotional bonds.  Our  joys and our sorrows, our highs and our lows, our sickness and our health; all these are shared and felt by the other members of our family.  What hurts one hurts all.

Back on June 6th of this year I was diagnosed with Stage 4 Non-Hodgkin's T-Cell Lymphoma,  an aggressive and rare form of cancer, with a lousy prognosis.  It was like getting hit hard in the gut.  It knocked all of the wind out of me and I went down hard.  My emotions were immediately consumed with fear and apprehension, and my mind was filled with questions and the possible implications of what I had just heard.  My world had been instantly turned upside down.  Somehow I retained my outward composure, in spite of what was going on inside.  Sitting right next to me, and hearing those same words, was my wife and soul mate of 44 years, Holly.  Unquestionably, her thoughts and emotions were on a similar trajectory to mine.  That evening we called our son Adam and daughter Jill with the news.  Their daddy was in serious trouble, although we did word it somewhat more tactfully than that.  They in turn told their spouses, and by bedtime, 6 lives had been shoved way off course.  And then there are also 6 grandchildren ranging in age from 2 months to 11 years.

I am the patient and it is my body that has been invaded by an unwelcome and threatening intruder.  I am the one blogging about my experience as a form of therapy.  I am the one who gets put on prayer lists and asked how I am doing physically and emotionally.  I am the one getting most of the cards and letters in the mail.  But Holly and Adam and Annie and Jill and Jeff are also having to go through their own process of emotional and spiritual adjustment, and work out their individual coping mechanisms. One significant factor in their adjusting is how I am dealing with the situation.  In all honesty and sincerity and can say that I am doing very well, retaining my usual optimistic view, and believing strongly that my medical team and God Almighty will give me victory over my cancer.  Having completed almost 2 seven week cycles of chemotherapy, I can safely say that I am enduring the therapy with almost no side effects other than fatigue.  So what my family sees is a pretty positive outlook from a 6'6" 250# man, who looks more like the doctor than the patient.  I just tire more quickly and sneak away for a nap more often.

But I worry about each of my family members and pray for them often.  They can only draw so much strength and confidence from my demeanor.  So I can only trust that God will be with each of them and give them peace with where we are and where we are going.  I especially pray for Holly, as she is the primary caregiver, and is having to shoulder an increasing load.  During the initial phase of my stem cell transplant, when we will be living in Durham, I pray that God will give her the strength and ability to handle all that will be required of her.  My reading tells me that she will need help and support from others, and I pray that the Lord will provide all that is required.  I also pray that the Lord will continue to bless me with an amazing ability to withstand the rigors of my treatments.  I accept that there are probably some difficult and unpleasant days ahead, but with God's help I know that they will pass and I will be on the road to recovery in His time.

For those prayer warriors that I know I have out there, you should now have a good list of specific needs to work with.  And thank you for your faithfulness.  For those of you who may doubt the power of prayer, pray for belief.