When Fear Meets Faith: A Cancer Update

Five weeks after our entire life shifted on its own axis, we finally have arrived at a place of peace and acceptance. When I first learned that cancer was found in Ty's liver, it honestly felt as though the ground beneath me just fell away and we were falling helplessly into a dark underworld.

My second grade teacher, Mrs. Riddle (Great teacher name, by the way), used to calm crying kids by exclaiming with loving eyes, "But is the ground going to open up and swallow you? No, it's not, so you will be ok!"

Yes, Mrs. Riddle, the ground is opening up and swallowing me whole and I must now cry and scream and rant and rage!

The routine CT Scan confirmed our worst fear. The cancer was back. Ty had fought hard to beat down colon cancer just two years ago, was considered cancer free, but that tricky little bastard found a way to re-grow and insert it's evil self into Ty's liver.

Cancer found a way back and it took our beloved plans to live abroad with it. It's amazing how a few microscopic mutated cells can decide so much about how a persons life will go. It took us several weeks to catch our breath and come to grips with our new reality, but I am happy to report we are once again standing on solid ground with a fierce determination to get through this!

Ty is a warrior and we are his army. We won this battle once and we will do it again.

Now, I feel the need to mention that it is by the grace of God himself that we find ourselves standing upon such solid ground with clarity in our minds and a lightness in our step. This is not the plans we had for our life, but in a strange supernatural sort of way, it feels as though we are being led steadily through this hellish nightmare by a strong and peaceful force that can only be described as the holy spirit.

I did not grow up with a strong faith, and I certainly have many questions about religion and God and Jesus. But I cannot ignore the many poignant surreal moments where a holy spirit is undeniably at work in my life! In another post, at another time, I may feel ready to share the very real, very powerful experience I had just two months before all of this shittyness happened. I didn't know it at the time, but I was getting a rare glimpse of God's heart and God's plans.

I was with a friend this afternoon, sharing with her my most precious, crazy and vulnerable thoughts. We sat on her couch with a cold glass of local chardonnay and I told her that I have felt an almost supernatural presence around me and my family this past month. How I feel like we are supposed to be full of despair and fear and anger, but we are not.

I told her how we absolutely felt all of those things, especially during those early days after the cancer diagnosis. I was angry at God, I did question why my family has had to suffer so much these past years with horrible health issues, I admitted that I felt like God had somehow forgotten us since my family seemed to be relentlessly under attack!

But the craziest thing has happened through all this darkness. I've never felt so close to God, and I've never experienced such tangible reminders that He is with us, carrying our weariness with gentle love while guiding us, especially through this dark and scary path we are on.

As we arrived at Ridley Tree Cancer Center yesterday to meet with the oncologist our hearts felt full and our spirits felt lighter. It was a distinct difference from the last time we were there, with our hearts so heavy.

We held hands tightly and decided to take the stairs instead of the elevator, because Ty's body is finally healed from the surgery and we intentionally wanted to enjoy the gift of a having an able body.

The nurse called Ty's name and we were led back to the rooms where so many others have had their hearts broken with the tragic news that cancer was found somewhere in their body.

But on this day, we could feel something else among those halls. There was a sense of hope and peace. You could feel it in the way the nurses smiled with such genuine love and care, proof that they are willingly choosing to serve others in their most vulnerable moments. You could see it in the eyes of the oncologist, who spent his life's work researching this horrific disease so he can be part of the cure.

A dear friend once told me that cancer is a sacred experience, and it wasn't until recently that I understood what she meant. Any disease that has the ability to take your life is sacred in the sense that it brings you to a place of awareness and awakening.

It strips you down to your most naked truths, physically and mentally, and that itself is something that should be given such sacred space in this world.

I pray that cancer is wiped away clean from this Earth someday, but if you ever have to face it yourself or watch a loved one get beaten up by it, I hope you also allow yourself to see what a rare sacred thing is happening within.

Now for the nitty gritty logistics part. According to the doctors, after the surgeon successfully removed the tumor, there is no evidence of cancer anywhere else on his current blood tests. However, since some microscopic cancer cell did find a way to reproduce last time and nestled stubbornly in his liver, the recommendation is that he undergoes six months of chemotherapy to blast any remaining diseased cells away for good. We feel very grateful that this type of treatment exists and impressed with the intricately designed plan the oncologist prepared for Ty.

Ty will be starting chemo in early August. He will actually be undertaking three types of treatments: An intravenous chemotherapy known as irinotecan administered every three weeks, a pill-based chemo known as capecitabine taken everyday for two weeks and then one week off, and an intravenous precision medicine (an immunotherapy biologic) known as vectibicx. The primary side effects of all these treatments will be nausea, fatigue, gastrointestinal problems, hair loss, skin irritation, and sensitivity to sunlight.

So, a month ago, we found ourselves on a path we did not want to be on, full of uncharted territory and extremely terrifying stops along the way, and though we are ready to walk this journey together, we are not going to pretend it's going to be easy. It most certainly won't be a walk in the park as Ty gets injected with chemotherapy every three weeks, and we still have moments where we are frozen with fear about the unknowns that lie ahead. The side effects of chemo are awful and I am so sad Ty has to experience this once again.

Somehow though, by the grace of God and the overwhelming love and support from our friends, we will keep our feet firmly on the ground and allow our faith to be bigger than our fear.

I am never able to quote the bible, but this one verse came to me as I was writing tonight: "The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”