Right about the time I get up a full head of steam, bitching and moaning about how the world is treating me, God shows up and showers me with lovingkindness. It is so humiliating. When I went yesterday to have another blood sample taken, I told my oncologist and nurse how amazing it would be if the results of my test arrived at Moffitt on Thursday (today) so that there wouldn’t be a further delay in ordering my experimental Norwegian liquid radiation solution (ENLRS).
They said it would be unlikely, but seemed highly motivated to help me (there may also have been a bribe involved, I don’t remember). To further impress upon them the seriousness of the situation, after my blood was drawn I asked for the vial, held it up in the air, and prayed loudly that God would wing it on its way to the lab and bring the results back with immediacy.
The nurse seemed shocked, but crossed herself and smiled awkwardly at me. For good measure, on my way out I promised everyone Fridays off with pay if they could do a 24 hour turnaround on my blood. It was in God’s hands now (Robert E. Lee used to say that before a battle).
This afternoon I received an excited call from my nurse (the one whom had crossed herself yesterday). She had received my blood test results earlier than expected and was faxing them to Moffitt at that very moment! Twenty minutes later Moffitt called, having received the report, and needed to ask me “just a few more questions” – “so how are your bowels functioning, Mr. Hague?” You know, stuff like that. With that done, a phone call was made to Norway and tonight my ship has sailed!
I am thrilled to announce that two weeks from tomorrow, (Friday, March 29), I will be glowing from my first infusion of Alpharadin. I have never been so excited to receive radiation into my body (ignoring Madame Curie). It’s the Battle of the Bulge and I’ve been trapped fighting a terrible enemy. But look at the sky! The weather is finally clearing and damned if I don’t hear planes in the air!
I find it fitting that March 29th (the day of my infusion) is Good Friday this year. The day when something horrible was used to accomplish something incredibly good. This cancer is horrible. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy (well, as long as I wasn’t in too bad a mood). But it has not been wasted. Great good is coming from it.
I am learning to suffer well, and out of my suffering I am learning to receive love (your love!) and share my love as I have opportunity. In my remaining days, however many there may be, I want to both suffer and love well. If I can do that, I will leave this world content and at peace.
I love the following verse:
“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.” – II Corinthians 4:16
My body is falling apart. I can feel it. Alpharadin, on its best day, still can’t cure my cancer. But that’s just my body. It’s not me. The real me will live and love forever with courage and fortitude born of God, I am sure of it.
Therefore, we do not lose heart – even in this – especially in this. I will not lose heart.
I am so grateful for each of you – for your love, support, and fervent prayers for me. I am able to cling to Christ because of you. There is no higher compliment I could pay you.
With suffering and love – we are in this together,