Day 27

I'm back.  Though day 7 of the cycle seems to be the toughest, I seem to be doing ok.  I am surrounded with reminders of life lately.   I just found out our friends had their baby in Costa Rica.  I just got news the other day of my other good friends being pregnant with their first child.

Even around the treatment ward, there are talks amongst the patients about where we are going to celebrate once we beat this thing.  We talk about restaurants and food that we are currently restricted from eating.  Even the nurses lift us up with stories of accomplishments from patients once they are done with chemo.  It's easy to sit here and sulk or complain about the pain but focusing on the positives is so much more therapeutic.  I met a lady the other day that was diagnosed with liver and colon cancer- she was given a few years at best.  Once she started the chemo, it began to shrink all her tumors at such an alarming rate that she is now expected to make a full recovery and in record time.  She told me that she never gave up no matter what the doctors said.

I pray Lord to let me focus on the light, rather than the darkness

John 9:1-5

Jesus Heals a Man Born Blind

 ¹ As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. ² His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”   ³ “Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him. ⁴ As long as it is day, we must do the works of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work. ⁵ While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.”

Day 26

THE WIFE SPEAKS:

Having been through 5 consecutive days of chemo this week (2nd round), Gil's feeling pretty weary today.  Not like his usual self.  So he's asked me to write his blog this day.

Hmmm. The only time I've typed on this blog is to edit Gil's writing.  Awesome writing.  Horrendous spelling and punctuation mistakes.  It drives him crazy whenever I correct him.  Well it drives me crazy whenever he makes grammar mistakes! =)

Anyhow, my own thoughts on all this?

Yes, like Gil said, this has all been surreal.  It's all happened so fast.

I was devastated when I first heard.  I cried.  Not in front of him (b/c he feels helpless when I cry) but after getting off the phone with him.  Called a good friend to cry on her shoulder.  Even though it was an excellent prognosis I was afraid for what he was going to have to go through with the chemo.  Sounded dreadful.

But after that we did what we knew we could only do-- speak to God together about it, give Him our fears/anxieties, read His words  and encourage each other.  Having the doctors and nurses walk us through the course of treatment eased my fears as well.

There have been 2 journeys for us thus far--the outward journey of the daily routine and the inward journey of processing all this with God.

The outward journey has been for the most part pretty normal, apart from all the drives to the clinic. Honestly, so far, the only times it gets hard for me is when Rhys is not cooperating.  (For Gil, well let's face it, cancer/chemo isn't a walk in the park.)  Gil not vomiting 16 straight hours, like many patients have had to suffer through, is a joyous and grateful relief. But when little miss Rhys throws a tantrum it can get TAXING.  But to be fair to her, it's only been few and far between, albeit very recent!  But a GINORMOUS thanks to Gil's mom (and rest of family) for taking care of Rhys whenever we need their help.  She'll go to no one else without us.

You wouldn't even know by looking at Gil that he has cancer, except now with his martian head...and on days like today when all Gil can do is sleep.  But without a shadow of a doubt, what is keeping our outward life so "normal" and positive is what God has been doing in us inwardly--answering your prayers and ours.  A million thank you's! You've caught a glimpse of it through some of the verses/songs he's shared.  It ain't us, that's fo sho.  Everything Gil said about himself is THE truth! My husband is an extremely paranoid worry wart by nature. If I could only show you all the posters he's put on our front door to remind me of stuff to do and not do!  Me? I'm way more laid back but still easily prone to despair and pessimism.  So for us to be so calm is really a testament to God.

Gil has quoted so many great words that have been our anchor.  I will add one more...one that came to mind while Rhys was falling asleep in my arms before bedtime tonight.  This one is dedicated to my man... for this very day.

"Do you not know?  Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. 
He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom.
He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.  
Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall;
but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.  
They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint."       Isaiah 40: 28-31

LIVESTRONG!
GILSTRONG!

Day 25

Statistics show that cure rates in cancer for children are higher than in adults.  Now the medical profession has a lot of theories on why.  I like to think its because the children are pure.  They may not have experienced all the hardships and failures and disappointments that we adults have.  They are not bogged down by the what ifs and details.  Therefore, they truly possess faith in its purest form.  Trusting in parents, doctors and even God.  Attitude and mindset they say in the cancer community is huge in how you cope with the disease.  Do I possess this pure state of faith in leaving everything to God?  Like a child?

Fatigue is beginning to increase in round 2.  Next couple of days will be a telling tale.  But I still feel very good.  Round 2 is almost in the books, just day 8 and 15 left.  Today I pray for patience.  Waiting for God. Waiting on God.  Waiting to hear God.

Psalm 27:14 

¹⁴ Wait for the LORD;
   be strong and take heart
   and wait for the LORD.

Day 24

This week flew by.  I was in the same room again as the 71 year old chinese lady in treatment today.  We continued to communicate despite my broken mandarin.  I had to translate her birthday for the nurses today.  She told me again not to smoke as it gave her lung cancer.  I promised her I wouldn't.  Then she looked me straight in the eye and said, "You look strong.  You are going to beat this.  I know you are going to survive!"

I looked her right back in the eye and said, "So are you!"

God gives me brand new strength each day, and today, it came in the form of a fragile chinese lady that smoked for 41 years and now is the cancer ward's unofficial spokesperson against the ills of tobacco and nicotine.   Go figure.




Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. - Deuteronomy 31:6 




True funny story of the day: After I got hooked up on my IV and meds, a different patient in the room looked over at me and asked if I was in there for cancer treatment.  I didn't even flinch.  "No, No, manicure, pedicure. You?" I asked.  Yes, I am the funniest guy in chemo.

Day 23

I know the word cancer is a loaded word,  unless preceeded by the words-" I don't got..." But maybe this will shine a little bit of light on how treatment works - after talking to some of you- I think you may be under the impression that I am in some hyperbaric chamber in a ward at the hospital hooked up to electrodes and a myriad of machines beeping and such. Well- sorry to burst that bubble- I am sitting in a hospital recliner in my sweats and monster baseball cap and typing on my blackberry.  I am still well enough to drive myself to chemo but I usually bum rides because I am too cheap to pay for parking. ( Haha- that's right- OCM-operational cost management)

A day in chemo for gil:

1. Arrive at cancer clinic 10:00--today Jay Mark dropped me off

2. I was early so went to see nutritionist and asked a few questions

3. Go to the 6th floor for chemo and check in

4. They tell me what room to go- it's usually 4 patients to a room- but seldomly full- mostly 3 people

5. The nurse then verifies who I am and sticks an IV in on my arm ( I try not to cry like a baby)

6. The menu du jour

- 1 bag of saline hydration-1 hour

- chemo drug A-- 30 mins

- chemo drug B-- 45 mins

- bag 2 of saline hydration--30 mins

- done- go home to rest

During all this- I read or chat with the other patients, nurses and whoever comes as my support person that day.  I meet new people each day.  Today I met a 71 year old chinese lady with lung cancer that told me that she smoked for 46 years.  She then told me to not smoke and asked what kind of soup my mother was making me to drink.

"I’m running back to your promises one more time, Lord that’s all I can hold on to, I gotta say this has taken me by surprise, but nothing surprises you. Before a heartache can ever touch my life, it has to go through Your hands." Kerrie Roberts-from the song No Matter What.

Day 22

My daughter Rhys prays every night before she goes to bed with whoever puts her down.  Her prayers sound like this: "Dear Jesus, thank you for__________"(she proceeds to mention everyone she saw that day) then ends the prayer with:"Thank you for mommy and daddy for taking care of me. And please heal my daddy's owee, in Jesus name, AMEN."

Yesterday, I told her that I was going to the hospital to get some medicine for my owee.  About half an hour after I left, June called as I was in the waiting room.  She said that Rhys started crying hysterically and clung for dear life to her and would not let go.  When June asked her what was wrong, the only thing she could blurt out was, DADDY, in between sobs.  So June asked her what she wanted to do.  She said she wanted to pray for daddy, so they did and she stopped crying.  I am beginning to realize that kids soak up a lot more than we realize.  I tell her something once and it gets ingrained.

Today, we asked her to pray for daddy's owee and she said this:  "Dear Jesus, thank you for Daddy's owee. Amen."  At first I thought, well that isn't right.  Not thank you, haha, wrong use of the past participle adjective noun thing.  But then I thought more about it.  What have we told her?  She knows her daddy is sick.  She knows that her daddy is going to get better.  She wakes up and sees me everyday.  We get to play together and nap together (nap is mostly for me now).  I am home when she comes home with June from play dates, classes and shopping.  Maybe she is thankful for all the time I get to spend with her now--  times that I may have missed in the first 2 and half years due to work or life.

Christian Bale in his Oscar acceptance speech thanked his daughter for teaching him more than he could ever teach her.  I feel the same way.  My daughter just taught me how to be thankful for getting cancer.  Crazy.

And now to showcase the latest headgear courtesy of my buddy Steve Rowe and his ever increasing knitting skills:

In case you can't read it, it says:  GIL STRONG

Day 21

Well, my blood work showed up as 9.4%- I needed 1.0% or higher to continue chemo.  PTL.  Day 1 of round 2 went well.  Met another patient on the same treatment but he was on round 1.  We had a good chat.  Thank you Steve and Chris for coming down to hang and pick me up.  Time flew by after that.  No hiccups yet either.  Below is picture I have been promising.

Possible nicknames I have already been called:
Lex Luther (June)
Egghead (anonymous)
Justin Cho (too many people to list)
An uglier Gordon Yip (Gordon Yip)
BJ Penn (that was me--maybe matt w)
Doctor Evil or Mini Me (Andis)
Michael Jordan (no one)

Thank you all for the prayers and support!