Day 86-87

Chris took me up to Whistler for some relaxation.  We certainly aren't young anymore.  We drove up Monday morning.  Hung out in the afternoon by walking around the village and sitting outside a Starbucks patio.  We watched the Canucks game at a bar surrounded by a bunch of loud, drunk locals that were probably half our age.   We were in our separate queen size beds by 9:30.  Could we BE any more old.

For the last couple of months, I have cherished the experiences and time spent with loved ones more and more.  Going through the chemo schedule I had wasn't exactly conducive to going out and experiencing a ton of things.  I don't think I have that kind of personality or huztpah in me anyways.  You won't be seeing any pics of me bungy jumping or running a marathon or sky diving.  Not my cup of tea.  But I do believe in experiencing new things.  I am finally going to learn how to swim this summer in a swim class for adults.

Today, Chris brought me to a Scandinavian spa up at Whistler.  Another new experience.  You start off in a steam bath that was so hot, I was drenched in my own sweat in about 2 minutes.   You stay in there or 15 minutes and then go jump in a freezing cold outdoor pool.  The heat is supposed to release your toxins and then the cold water closes your pores. It's supposed to be good for the immune system.  After that, you spend some time in a solarium and then repeat the cycle using a hot tub and then sauna.  Anyone reading this, please don't tell my mom or she will have Chris shot.  Getting away from the city was nice, and Whistler is always such a beautiful place.  When I used to ski, I would always admire the Japanese people that I met up on the mountain.  Their take on life is unique.  They work hard and then they play hard.  I remember meeting people that would work for 6-8 months of the year, 7 days a week.  Then they would take the next 4-6 months and spend it skiing in Whistler.  Now that's living.  Work hard, play hard.  How's that for balance?

Day 84-85

I started this blog so I could update people on my medical condition.  Then it became a therapeutic avenue for myself.  The freedom to share my faith as well as my medical condition.  So to be totally transparent, I have to admit that I had a few bad days last week.  I read about cancer patients getting depressed during the  time span when they finish their treatment and awaiting news.  I laughed when I read that. Although I handled it fairly well (PTL), chemo was still bad and I was very happy that it was over.  I couldn't understand why anyone would be sad that it would be over.  Well, for a few days last week, I began to understand.  I felt a little bit scared because I had my CT scan and have to wait a week for results.  My mind started playing tricks on me.  What if the cancer isn't gone?  Now I know deep down that my life cannot be just about living from scan to scan or living in fear of what might happen.  If the last 80 some odd days have shown me anything, it is that God is so much bigger than this life.
Whether I am gonna be around for the next 40 years or the next 40 days, I have already been changed.

To value and cherish this life but to know that there is more to it than that- and that doesn't change no matter what any doctor says.  The changes in me have already happened and are not contingent on any CT results.  It took a few conversations with June, my brother and some close friends to snap me out of it.  I know it is human nature to expect the worst and the pessimistic side of me creeps out once in a while.  I heard 2 sermons this weekend.  Two different preachers speaking on two different topics but I got the same message from both.  God wants the best for me, and wants me to have a relationship with him- a father and son relationship.  Once that is in place, nothing else will matter.  Not pain, not suffering, not disease.  Faith like a child-  something that Rhys teaches me everyday.  She trusts me as her daddy- trusts that I want the best for her.  She sometimes cries and tantrums because what I want isn't what she wants but at the end of it all, she realizes that I know best.  It just takes some time to see it.  I am patient with her as I expect that God is patient with me when I doubt or question His will for me.


Trust in the Lord, and do good; dwell in the land, and feed on His faithfulness. —Psalm 37:3

And now the infamous picture of the the "chamber"

Day 82-83

Chest x- ray done. CT scan done. Have drunk roughly 6 liters of water in last 24 hours. The scan technician hooks up a needle to my veins and pumps dye into me. Then she tells me I may feel a warm sensation from the top of my head to my rectum. Not what you want to hear when you got a bladder about to explode. I thought to myself- the warm sensation could be the dye or I pee'd myself. I also took a pic of the "chamber". Will post tomorrow. 6 days for results. Will try to keep my mind off things and concentrate on cheering for the canucks. Peace.

Day 77-81

James 4:7-10 (The Message)

 ^7-10So let God work his will in you. Yell a loud no to the Devil and watch him scamper. Say a quiet yes to God and he'll be there in no time. Quit dabbling in sin. Purify your inner life. Quit playing the field. Hit bottom, and cry your eyes out. The fun and games are over. Get serious, really serious. Get down on your knees before the Master; it's the only way you'll get on your feet.






This was the passage of the bible in my daily devotion.  In summary, this passage reminded me to submit to God.  I realize that I need to rely on God even more today than round 1, 2, 3, and 4 of chemo.  It was a physical thing during chemo.  In the aftermath, it's now a mental thing.  As I wait to do my blood tests on Thursday, my CT scan on Friday and then the results a week later- it's quite easy to fall into a state of worry or mental torment.  Instead, I pray for peace.  That last line about getting on your knees to end up on your feet is ironic.  Tonight at bedtime, I taught Rhys to pray on her knees by her bedside for the first time.  She prayed for everyone that she hung out with today-Gramma, Grampa, Uncle Dan, Momma, Dada, and Uncle Ray.  Then she farted and asked me to change her diaper cuz she farted. I said no, so she threw a tantrum and then went to bed.  Ah the fun never stops at the Yeung household.


Now that treatment is over doesn't mean this journey is over.  A nurse told me the other day how her cousin, after years of being cancer free, is still a complete wreck a week before each scan.  Will I live life in fear, from scan to scan? Will life be on hold for me just because the future is uncertain?  Or will I continue to put my trust in God, who has led me through the last 3 months unscathed (except for some minor hair loss).  Stay tuned for more action when return from these messages...

Days 73-76

The Wife Speaks (again...behind Gil's back):

Gil's not home. He's out with his buds. Rhys is in bed.  I felt like blogging on his blog since we're in limbo. It gave me time on a Friday night to spend some much needed time in prayer.  I've been distracted lately and caught up with everyday life so I haven't REALLY prayed in a while.  Lots of concerns about the future--Gil's CT scan results and whether we can get on with our lives; the worry of  ever conceiving a child again, etc. Just poured out my heart and deep worries and fears to the Lord.  He's the perfect listener.

And then like a broken dam, tears poured out of me...it was a flood of relief and deep thankfulness to God for sustaining us through Gil's whole chemo treatment.  There were some rough days yes.  But looking back already I can see how much He protected, covered and strengthened us.

Since this all started there was a promise from scripture that I truly believe God was speaking to us as a family to hold on to.  It has consistently come to mind and again tonight:

Isaiah 43

Israel’s Only Savior

 ¹ But now, this is what the LORD says—
   he who created you, Jacob,
   he who formed you, Israel:
“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
   I have summoned you by name; you are mine. ² When you pass through the waters,
   I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
   they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
   you will not be burned;
   the flames will not set you ablaze. ³ 

For I am the LORD your God,
   the Holy One of Israel, your Savior; 

That's it. Gil walked through the fires of chemo, but did not get burned.  God was with us.   He did not suffer the way I thought he would.  I could thank the drugs for that, sure. But ultimately, I choose to thank the Lord.  

Then after that the fears of the 5% chance that things take a turn for the worst came into my head. (Remember, I'm a pessimist by nature.) But then I told God:  "But even if somehow something should go wrong and the cancer comes back or he ends up being terminal, I still have to hold on to hope that "we will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living."  No matter what, God, even in the face of death, we still have to hope, and hope in You.  What choice do we really have?"          HOPE.  It's the bottom line for all my fears.

Day 67-72 - Final Treatment

Haven't blogged in a while.  I told myself a while ago that I wanted this blog to let people know how I was doing.  Made myself promise to not just blog for the sake of blogging but only when I felt I had something to say.  I spent the last few days resting, hanging with friends and family and finally the big day is here.  Well, I guess one of the big days.  Today is my last treatment.  There are more big days to come.  But tomorrow is the first one I guess.  Then there is the ct scan later in May.  The results.  More scans in months to come.  At the end of it all, you can't live scan to scan wondering if the cancer will come back.  You just gotta live.  I have no idea what the scan in May will say.  I believe that the treatment worked and I have been healed and cured.  But human nature and doubt is a bitch, ain't it?  Spoke to a friend today, who asked how I was dealing with the "post treatment" time.  He asked if the waiting for results would be grinding on my nerves.  I told him that if it did, there would be some dark days ahead.  I'm sure many cancer patients go through that.  The worry, the doubt, the uncertainty.  I hope I learned a little more than that the last few months.  I choose life.  I choose knowledge in knowing that God has given me peace in whatever circumstance that life throws at you.  


About ten years ago, I went on a mission trip to Africa.  I went with my Pastor Darryl, his daughter Nadine and my buddy Dave.  We went hut to hut and told people about Jesus.  That trip changed my life.  I had my video camera with me the whole trip and documented everything on film.  When I came back, I made a highlight video.  It was set to a song by Jars of Clay called Worlds Apart and a song by Third Day called Show Me Your Glory.  Specific lyrics from each of these songs expressed exactly how I felt after the trip. 


To love you, Take my world apart
To need you, I am on my knees
To love you, Take my world apart
To need you, broken on my knees




I caught a glimpse of Your splendor
In the corner of my eye
The most beautiful thing I've ever seen
And it was like a flash of lightning
Reflected off the sky
And I know I'll never be the same
Show me Your glory
Send down Your presence
I want to see Your face
Show me Your glory
Majesty shines about You
I can't go on without You, Lord
When I climb down the mountain
And get back to my life
I won't settle for ordinary things
I'm gonna follow You forever
And for all of my days
I won't rest 'til I see You again


There are a few events that happen in my life where I look back and realize that I will never be the same again after what just happened. My world has been shaken or torn apart but for the better.   Some things that come to mind obviously is getting married and the birth of my child.  Add to that list, that missions trip.  And now...cancer.  I know I will never be same.  I even felt that way this Sunday after the most amazing Easter Sunday service at my church.  I felt so moved by everything that happened that I remember saying to myself, wow, I will never be the same after that.  Haha, I used to dread Easter services cause they were so boring, well not at our church.  


I had a date night with June tonite.  We put Rhys to bed and then watched a dvd I rented.  Big date night.  We watched Country Strong- there was this one line of advice in the movie, where Gwenyth Paltrow tells a young up an comer to remember to love as many things as you can, cause that's all that really matters.  I thought that was pretty powerful.  Might add that to my "there's always something more we can do" mantra.  


Will keep everyone posted on the doctors appointments and results as soon as  I get them.  Will announce where the celebration/ post oscars-type bash/ after party will be.  


Peace out dudes (as my daughter would say)

Day 64-66. The beginning of the week

Well the weekend was good but can't say the same for Monday and Tuesday. The drop off from round 4 was tougher than I expected. It's crazy. On one hand, you feel so crappy that you can't get out of bed. Then Rhys crawls into bed beside me and falls asleep and, subconsciously grabs my hand and snores away. I lie there and wonder how I ever would have been able to share these moments had I been healthy.

Wed could not come quick enough. Tue was a blur but now I am back on my feet. Feeling good. The countdown has begun. One more chemo session Tuesday, three more shots from June, one more week of everything tasting like metal. And a clear ct scan in mid May. The road to recovery will be determined by my doctors. I assume it will include a lot of rest and just letting the body heal. I feel like my mind and my soul has had some time to heal in the last little while and it's now the body's turn to catch up. Sometimes it's like having a split personality. Chemo gil wants to sleep all day. Social gil wants to catch up with friends. Coke gil wants to go to work. Funny gil wants to do standup about cancer and my experiences.

 Every morning I wake up and pray and read my devotions and thank God for everything he has done for me and I thank him for so many people that have encouraged me throughout this. Every email, text, card, letter, phone call and just words have truly made it so much easier.  Even times when my buddies would drive all the way out from Port Moody/Coquitlam just to sit with me at chemo and drive me home.

Everyone believes that they are loved and appreciated. But few get to experience love and support like I did. My brother has become my best friend.  My wife and my mom are THE strongest people I know. And my daughter is officially the funniest person in the family because when you ask her what happens when we get an owweee, she says,"Suck it up!"