Nothing has changed…

A chemotherapy cycle was supposed to be a 21 day event of 3 different types of chemo drugs. 5 consecutive days of  treatment of two drugs, a few more days of another type of chemo drug and several days to recover. The best description I heard a doctor use to describe chemo was, “it’s a poison, we find out how much will kill you and then we back it off a little bit.” Because chemo was so bad on the white blood cells they gave me an injection of some really expensive stuff. (I saw the invoice for one of those shots and it was over $6500.)  I’m not sure what my body was doing with this invasion but just a few days after the treatments had ended the first cycle, my doctor said, ” you did so well this first cycle we are going to start the next one right away.” What? The next 3 cycles of chemo were determined to be a little more outpatient. However, Melanie and the doctors decided that they weren’t really comfortable with me leaving the campus quite yet, so we moved into the Inn at the Mayo. It was a small hotel connected to the clinic and really nice. The best part about it is that when she needed to take me to the emergency room, (that happened a few times) we were really close and under the hospital roof.  Our suite had two bedrooms and a full kitchen which was great since we lived there and I was not allowed to eat anything that Melanie didn’t make, due to my immune system being shot. We had a hospital bed put in one of the bedrooms there. The first night was horrible, it was the first time in several weeks that I was all alone. It was pitch black dark, Melanie was sleeping in another room, no doctors or nurses were coming in to poke and prod. I had made up my mind to learn to sleep in the back brace because I didn’t have enough time to get it on if I needed to get to the restroom. Strategy was everything. I had finally settled my mind down and was finally getting comfortable and in the darkness, and I heard the voice of my enemy. I felt like Satan had actually entered the room and started giving me a vivid description of my future. He started by reminding me of what happened to my company in the last quarter of 2009. I had to liquidate everything I personally had to keep the business afloat and we were still in great debt. He showed me how the lack of my involment in the company would be the end. He kept going on this little trip of destruction, mentioning bankruptcy, and my letting down all the people that financially depended on me. He showed me the burden that Melanie would be forced to deal with because the end of this sad little tale was me dying. I remember laying there motionless. In the quietness, I heard my Lord speak. He quietly said, “nothing has changed…” I knew in my spirit that he was telling me that none of the things that Satan was predicting would come to pass. Then, in the same breath, the Lord said, “… we will take this one day at a time.” When I heard the word “we”, at that moment I knew I was going to be fine. Many people have asked me if I ever doubted that I was going to be completely healed of cancer. That dark night was the only encounter of doubt I have experienced to this day. Even though I was convinced that healing was mine, the doctors apparently were seeing some things that proved otherwise…

Leave a Reply