Before my cancer diagnosis in 2004, I was unaware of anyone ever having bladder cancer. Since that time, I've discovered that many celebrities have fought bladder cancer, some have even died from it. The list includes Frank Sinatra (in addition to having Alzheimer's when he died), former Vice President Hubert Humphrey, Ray Bolger (the actor known for being "The Scarecrow" in the movie "Wizard of Oz") and investigative reporter Dominick Dunne. Most recently, singer Andy Williams announced he had been diagnosed with bladder cancer. Hence, I now look at these celebrities in a different light. We are intertwined by a disease. You could even say we're part of the same family. Hey, I even felt inclined to try to contact Andy Williams via his fan website (haven't heard back from him, however). Yet, if I do ever hear from him, even though our careers and paychecks are much different, we do have something to talk about. Based on my experience, he may even benefit from conversing with me.
Of course, bladder cancer does not affect just celebrities. The American Cancer Society states that 73,000 Americans are diagnosed with bladder cancer annually and it causes 15,000 deaths. So, bladder cancer is out there, although it may not get as much publicity as other cancers.
The Bible offers comfort to those who are going through similar situations. I Peter 5:9 says that we know that "...the same experiences of suffering are being accomplished by your brethren who are in the world" (NASB). Although this verse applies to temptations and attacks from the devil, I believe this verse also applies to anyone going through major suffering or trials. Think about it! There are countless numbers of people worldwide going through similar trials and emerging victoriously. There is hope in numbers. If others can overcome a certain malady, then so can I.
Consequently, when struck by unfathomable sorrow or suffering, it's nice to know that I am not alone.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Looking Beyond The Present
It was such a simple little drawing. After I was informed in March 2006 that I would undergo twelve chemotherapy treatments, I made a little graph shaped like a thermometer with twelve sections. I put in on the bulletin board in front of my desk at work. Each week when I returned to work after chemo, I would fill in a section with a red or pink marker. It was a visible reminder of my progress with chemotherapy. What a joy when the graph was completely filled in on June 15, 2006.
In looking back, I guess the graph was a way of me looking beyond the present circumstances. In spite of the extreme nausea, profound fatigue and multiple hospitalizations with chemo, the graph showed me I was making progress. There was an end in sight. All I had to do was continue filling in sections from week to week.
The Bible states that Jesus also looked beyond His circumstances. Hebrews 12:2 says that Jesus "for the joy set before Him, endured the cross, despising the shame and has sat down at the right hand of God" (NASB). Come to think of it, even the most severe of circumstances may be endured if one knows there is a reward at the end. It could be a paycheck for a job well done, a trophy for demonstrating the highest character or simply a good night's rest for tackling the day's challenges in heroic fashion.
This type of thinking is displayed in a commercial, I believe it's for a sports drink, where it shows a football player running up and down the steps of a stadium. He is sweating profusely and panting heavily. He is all alone....laboring. Yet, his thoughts are, "Touchdowns aren't given away....they're paid for." He knows his hard work will one day end up with him in the endzone, scoring for his team in front of numerous screaming fans. His efforts will all be worth it one day.
Going through cancer, and especially chemotherapy, is painful. Yet, having the ability to look beyond the present can turn even the worst of cancer treatment into a "momentary, light affliction...producing an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison" (II Corinthians 4:17).
In looking back, I guess the graph was a way of me looking beyond the present circumstances. In spite of the extreme nausea, profound fatigue and multiple hospitalizations with chemo, the graph showed me I was making progress. There was an end in sight. All I had to do was continue filling in sections from week to week.
The Bible states that Jesus also looked beyond His circumstances. Hebrews 12:2 says that Jesus "for the joy set before Him, endured the cross, despising the shame and has sat down at the right hand of God" (NASB). Come to think of it, even the most severe of circumstances may be endured if one knows there is a reward at the end. It could be a paycheck for a job well done, a trophy for demonstrating the highest character or simply a good night's rest for tackling the day's challenges in heroic fashion.
This type of thinking is displayed in a commercial, I believe it's for a sports drink, where it shows a football player running up and down the steps of a stadium. He is sweating profusely and panting heavily. He is all alone....laboring. Yet, his thoughts are, "Touchdowns aren't given away....they're paid for." He knows his hard work will one day end up with him in the endzone, scoring for his team in front of numerous screaming fans. His efforts will all be worth it one day.
Going through cancer, and especially chemotherapy, is painful. Yet, having the ability to look beyond the present can turn even the worst of cancer treatment into a "momentary, light affliction...producing an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison" (II Corinthians 4:17).
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
What Cancer Cannot Do
The other day, on an off day from work, I jogged a couple of miles in my neighborhood. I used to run a lot more, but over the years I've been limited in my amount of running by my long working hours. However, as I ran around the corner from my house, I was met by what used to be a frightening site, that is, a barking dog named Deke. As a matter of fact, I can usually count on Deke barking at me if I am near his property. It can be pretty scary if you aren't familiar with Deke's situation. Deke is a good sized animal, about the size of a Black Labrador, although he appears to be a mixed breed. When Deke approaches with his ferocious bark, it is only natural to be afraid, very, very afraid.
Yet, interesting thing about Deke. All he can do is bark at me. Apparently, his yard has a hidden wire under the grass where he will only go so far. I've never seen him leave his yard. As long as I run on the street, I know Deke will never hurt me. He will come within a few feet of me, barking, carrying on, but yet, I never really get rattled by Deke. I know his power (with the help of modern dog control technology) is limited.
Reminds me in a sense about cancer. Just the word "cancer" is scary. The treatments are tumultuous. The side effects debilitating. I once received a card from a sweet lady at church years ago who was battling lung cancer and she quoted this poem. I in turn felt compelled to put it on my refrigerator. Furthermore, this poem is now seen on T-shirts, coffee mugs and bracelets. The author is unknown, but the verses describe the limitations of cancer. It is entitled, "What Cancer Cannot Do". Consider:
Cancer is so limited...
It cannot cripple love.
It cannot shatter hope.
It cannot corrode faith.
It cannot eat away peace.
It cannot destroy confidence.
It cannot kill friendship.
It cannot shut out memories.
It cannot silence courage.
It cannot reduce eternal life.
It cannot quench the Spirit.
Mind you, cancer can kill, maim and destroy. Yet, just like my buddy Deke who meets me when I'm running, cancer's bark is sometimes worse than its bite.
Yet, interesting thing about Deke. All he can do is bark at me. Apparently, his yard has a hidden wire under the grass where he will only go so far. I've never seen him leave his yard. As long as I run on the street, I know Deke will never hurt me. He will come within a few feet of me, barking, carrying on, but yet, I never really get rattled by Deke. I know his power (with the help of modern dog control technology) is limited.
Reminds me in a sense about cancer. Just the word "cancer" is scary. The treatments are tumultuous. The side effects debilitating. I once received a card from a sweet lady at church years ago who was battling lung cancer and she quoted this poem. I in turn felt compelled to put it on my refrigerator. Furthermore, this poem is now seen on T-shirts, coffee mugs and bracelets. The author is unknown, but the verses describe the limitations of cancer. It is entitled, "What Cancer Cannot Do". Consider:
Cancer is so limited...
It cannot cripple love.
It cannot shatter hope.
It cannot corrode faith.
It cannot eat away peace.
It cannot destroy confidence.
It cannot kill friendship.
It cannot shut out memories.
It cannot silence courage.
It cannot reduce eternal life.
It cannot quench the Spirit.
Mind you, cancer can kill, maim and destroy. Yet, just like my buddy Deke who meets me when I'm running, cancer's bark is sometimes worse than its bite.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Coping Versus Moping
I had a radio interview the other day regarding my cancer survival and book. I always enjoy getting questions because it seems to refine my message. In other words, it helps me try to delineate what I truly believe.
For example, the interviewer asked me if some people use cancer as a means to draw attention to themselves. Another way of describing this phenomenon is a "pity party". Hey, look at me. I have cancer. Feel sorry for me. Wait on me. I believe there is an old medical term that lists this as "la belle indifference". A person actually enjoys being sick because of the attention it garners.
I hope this is not my attitude at all. On one hand, I do have to make an honest appraisal of my physical abilities (or lack of them) since I went through chemotherapy. I do have some infirmities, e.g. loss of hearing, which I've mentioned before. In describing the hearing loss, I don't want to make people feel sorry for me. I just want to know what my life has become. I can't hear sometimes. Phone conversations are difficult. Understanding dialogue on TV shows is difficult. So, am I trying to make others feel sorry for me by mentioning these things? No, not at all. I just want them to realize there is a reason that sometimes I misunderstand conversations. Dialogues with others are not being ignored.....I just can't completely comprehend what is being said.
Furthermore, even though cancer has damaged me, I don't want to be pitied. Cancer has opened up doors I never could have imagined. I've gained new insight into life. As a matter of fact, I've been entrusted with new knowledge, new insights, new victories. In many ways, I'm a new person. Life before cancer was so routine and so uneventful. Now, because of this dreaded disease, life, in a most peculiar way, has become more glorious. Oh, cancer, where is thy sting?
I talk more about my cancer victory in my book, "A Place I Didn't Want To Go: My Victory Over Cancer", which can be purchased at Amazon.com. You can access it online at:
For example, the interviewer asked me if some people use cancer as a means to draw attention to themselves. Another way of describing this phenomenon is a "pity party". Hey, look at me. I have cancer. Feel sorry for me. Wait on me. I believe there is an old medical term that lists this as "la belle indifference". A person actually enjoys being sick because of the attention it garners.
I hope this is not my attitude at all. On one hand, I do have to make an honest appraisal of my physical abilities (or lack of them) since I went through chemotherapy. I do have some infirmities, e.g. loss of hearing, which I've mentioned before. In describing the hearing loss, I don't want to make people feel sorry for me. I just want to know what my life has become. I can't hear sometimes. Phone conversations are difficult. Understanding dialogue on TV shows is difficult. So, am I trying to make others feel sorry for me by mentioning these things? No, not at all. I just want them to realize there is a reason that sometimes I misunderstand conversations. Dialogues with others are not being ignored.....I just can't completely comprehend what is being said.
Furthermore, even though cancer has damaged me, I don't want to be pitied. Cancer has opened up doors I never could have imagined. I've gained new insight into life. As a matter of fact, I've been entrusted with new knowledge, new insights, new victories. In many ways, I'm a new person. Life before cancer was so routine and so uneventful. Now, because of this dreaded disease, life, in a most peculiar way, has become more glorious. Oh, cancer, where is thy sting?
I talk more about my cancer victory in my book, "A Place I Didn't Want To Go: My Victory Over Cancer", which can be purchased at Amazon.com. You can access it online at:
Monday, May 14, 2012
Being Sifted
In Luke 22:31, Jesus said, "Simon, Simon, behold, Satan has demanded permission to sift you like wheat." As you may recall, Jesus made this statement in anticipation of Peter denying Him three times as our Lord's arrest and crucifixion were imminent.
This verse became more clear to me recently as my wife and I were working out in the backyard. This year my wife decided to plant a vegetable garden in an open area in the yard, something which she has done on occasion. Unfortunately, the spot she chose for the garden had a very hard soil. Hence, preparing the soil would take much effort with a simple hoe and rake. To say the least, it was a task we was dreading.
In anticipation of this project, although money in our household is very tight, I felt the need to purchase a simple tiller to loosen the soil. What a difference the tiller made! Instead of taking hours to prepare the soil, the tiller loosened the ground within a few minutes. I marveled as the blades churned through the soil with relative ease. You could say the tiller was "sifting" the soil.
Seeing the tiller brought Luke 22:31 to mind. It also reminded me of what I had been through with cancer, especially with chemotherapy. Multiple hospitalizations and multiple blood transfusions. Battles with depression. Extreme nausea. Profound fatigue. Chemotherapy carried me to rock bottom, so to speak, then even lower than that! I was truly sifted all right.
Yet, now that my soil has been prepared, I pray that good crops will appear in my life. I don't wish sifting upon anyone. However, I rejoice in the crops which may be forthcoming.
This verse became more clear to me recently as my wife and I were working out in the backyard. This year my wife decided to plant a vegetable garden in an open area in the yard, something which she has done on occasion. Unfortunately, the spot she chose for the garden had a very hard soil. Hence, preparing the soil would take much effort with a simple hoe and rake. To say the least, it was a task we was dreading.
In anticipation of this project, although money in our household is very tight, I felt the need to purchase a simple tiller to loosen the soil. What a difference the tiller made! Instead of taking hours to prepare the soil, the tiller loosened the ground within a few minutes. I marveled as the blades churned through the soil with relative ease. You could say the tiller was "sifting" the soil.
Seeing the tiller brought Luke 22:31 to mind. It also reminded me of what I had been through with cancer, especially with chemotherapy. Multiple hospitalizations and multiple blood transfusions. Battles with depression. Extreme nausea. Profound fatigue. Chemotherapy carried me to rock bottom, so to speak, then even lower than that! I was truly sifted all right.
Yet, now that my soil has been prepared, I pray that good crops will appear in my life. I don't wish sifting upon anyone. However, I rejoice in the crops which may be forthcoming.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Who's in Charge??
The other day before I visited my ENT doctor, I prayed something like, "Dear God, please restore my hearing." This is related to the fact I suffered permanent hearing loss from chemo treatments in 2006. I was hoping to hear news about a revolutionary new surgery which would relinquish me of the burden of wearing hearing aids at times. Then, it dawned on me how I had misplaced my request to my Heavenly Father. It was not "my" hearing. I didn't create it. I really had no part in its function from the beginning. As a matter of fact, I couldn't take any credit for my hearing, vision, sense of smell, sense of taste or any of the functions of my body. These wonderful creations were all loaned to me by a loving God who created everything.
The Bible describes it in this way. "For Thou didst form my inward parts; Thou didst weave me in my mother's womb" (Psalms 139:13). It wasn't evolution, it wasn't chance. My body was created by God, no doubt about it. In addition, in a peculiar way, God even takes credit for what we call "handicaps". For example, in Exodus 4:11 God says, "Who has made man's mouth? Or who makes him dumb or deaf, or seeing or blind? Is it not I, the Lord?" Even though the hearing loss with chemotherapy caught me by surprise, it was somehow part of God's plan for me.
So, as I struggle on a daily basis trying to understand conversations, trying to follow dialogue on television with closed captioning, etc., I have to continue to entrust my body to God's loving care to accomplish His purposes in me. For "every one who is called by My name....I have created for My glory..." (Isaiah 43:7). If He chooses to restore my hearing, I'll praise Him. If He doesn't restore my hearing, although I may not understand it, I will yet praise Him. My infirmities will ultimately lead to God's glory.
Hence, who's in charge? Definitely not me, and seeing how I usually mess up most things in my life, that's probably a good thing.
The Bible describes it in this way. "For Thou didst form my inward parts; Thou didst weave me in my mother's womb" (Psalms 139:13). It wasn't evolution, it wasn't chance. My body was created by God, no doubt about it. In addition, in a peculiar way, God even takes credit for what we call "handicaps". For example, in Exodus 4:11 God says, "Who has made man's mouth? Or who makes him dumb or deaf, or seeing or blind? Is it not I, the Lord?" Even though the hearing loss with chemotherapy caught me by surprise, it was somehow part of God's plan for me.
So, as I struggle on a daily basis trying to understand conversations, trying to follow dialogue on television with closed captioning, etc., I have to continue to entrust my body to God's loving care to accomplish His purposes in me. For "every one who is called by My name....I have created for My glory..." (Isaiah 43:7). If He chooses to restore my hearing, I'll praise Him. If He doesn't restore my hearing, although I may not understand it, I will yet praise Him. My infirmities will ultimately lead to God's glory.
Hence, who's in charge? Definitely not me, and seeing how I usually mess up most things in my life, that's probably a good thing.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Joy of Renewal
Well, I finally had to trade it in around 2010: my 1992 Mercury Villager Van. After driving it for years and years, it was getting harder and harder to find replacement parts. As a matter of fact, it became somewhat comical with some of the issues I faced with the van in its last few months in my possession. It would be hard to mention exactly everything that went wrong but I'll try.
The motor continued to run well for the most part, but it was peripheral issues that took its toll. For example, the door locks on the car broke so that I couldn't lock my car. The passenger's side window went out. The radio only worked part of the time. The lock on the glove compartment box broke so I had to prevent the glove compartment from flying opening while I was motoring by securing it with duct tape. The sun visor on the driver's side broke so I had to cover my eyes whenever I drove in open sunlight. Sometimes the hatch on the back took several tries to get it closed. The wiring on my tail lights became frazzled so I sometimes only had one operating tail light. I guess the issue that finally made me give it up was the air conditioning compressor. It broke down and my repair guy had difficulty finding a replacement. He did find an air conditioning compressor that had never been used by looking for it on the internet but it failed after a few months. I thought, "That does it!!! I just can't get through another Alabama summer without air conditioning." So, finally, in October 2010, I traded in my van with 262, 000 miles on the odometer and purchased a used 2006 Kia Optima.
What a difference it makes to drive a newer car (although I purchased it used). The air conditioner works. The radio works (it even has a CD player...the van had a cassette player). I can lock the doors with the push of a button on my key ring. There is better gas mileage. Better comfort. Better controls. Everything is better, better, better. To me, this car is heaven-sent. When I purchased it, it appeared to be the perfect car for me and my bank account. Furthermore, I actually have developed quite a fondness for my Kia, my affection most likely based on my woeful interactions with the van in its latter debilitating years.
Kind of reminds me of the joy that occurs when coming through a trial. In James 1:2 it says, "Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials." Although it would be hard to describe my cancer battle as a joyful experience , there is now a certain sense of happiness, a peace within for surviving what I did with the major surgery and chemotherapy. Psalms 30:5 says, "...weeping may last for the night, but a shout of joy comes in the morning." This is certainly true. Cancer, especially chemotherapy, was dark and painful. Now, I can view my present situation with joy. Consequently, I can look back and say how, with God's help, "I made it!" or "I overcame it". It tried to destroy me but I ultimately am the victor. It's a great feeling.
The motor continued to run well for the most part, but it was peripheral issues that took its toll. For example, the door locks on the car broke so that I couldn't lock my car. The passenger's side window went out. The radio only worked part of the time. The lock on the glove compartment box broke so I had to prevent the glove compartment from flying opening while I was motoring by securing it with duct tape. The sun visor on the driver's side broke so I had to cover my eyes whenever I drove in open sunlight. Sometimes the hatch on the back took several tries to get it closed. The wiring on my tail lights became frazzled so I sometimes only had one operating tail light. I guess the issue that finally made me give it up was the air conditioning compressor. It broke down and my repair guy had difficulty finding a replacement. He did find an air conditioning compressor that had never been used by looking for it on the internet but it failed after a few months. I thought, "That does it!!! I just can't get through another Alabama summer without air conditioning." So, finally, in October 2010, I traded in my van with 262, 000 miles on the odometer and purchased a used 2006 Kia Optima.
What a difference it makes to drive a newer car (although I purchased it used). The air conditioner works. The radio works (it even has a CD player...the van had a cassette player). I can lock the doors with the push of a button on my key ring. There is better gas mileage. Better comfort. Better controls. Everything is better, better, better. To me, this car is heaven-sent. When I purchased it, it appeared to be the perfect car for me and my bank account. Furthermore, I actually have developed quite a fondness for my Kia, my affection most likely based on my woeful interactions with the van in its latter debilitating years.
Kind of reminds me of the joy that occurs when coming through a trial. In James 1:2 it says, "Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials." Although it would be hard to describe my cancer battle as a joyful experience , there is now a certain sense of happiness, a peace within for surviving what I did with the major surgery and chemotherapy. Psalms 30:5 says, "...weeping may last for the night, but a shout of joy comes in the morning." This is certainly true. Cancer, especially chemotherapy, was dark and painful. Now, I can view my present situation with joy. Consequently, I can look back and say how, with God's help, "I made it!" or "I overcame it". It tried to destroy me but I ultimately am the victor. It's a great feeling.
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