January 8, 2006
My journey
Today is a new day, paint it with any color you want…
A new day is like an inviting pristine white canvas, primed with expectations and excitement. A canvas has no life, yet through the artist’s passionate strokes it becomes vividly alive with meaning and colors.
We have unlimited choices to paint our day or year. We can paint it with darker, more subdued tones which is an expression of longing or emptiness. We can paint it with vibrant, brilliant hues which signify joy, faith and hope. A painting needs a patient hand with a heart and a soul. A day likewise needs someone who decides whether to make it a beautiful gift from God or just another falling leaf.
A cancer patient like me fights for life each day. I am grateful for today, and I grab it with vigor and enthusiasm like I have never done before. I have stopped teaching this semester, and I spend most of my time in my small cluttered studio, (I can’t work when everything is in order) which is filled with old but firm paintbrushes, oils, acrylics, and watercolor tubes and primed canvasses. Some unframed and unfinished works are discreetly leaning on the walls. This is where I create my own world. They could be a profusion of colors of a garden filled with flowers or a lonely cottage in the woods. The freedom of expression in this small corner is more exhilarating than the freedom of the press.
Here, I pour out my soul, my thoughts, experiences and hopes, even the exact time of the day is reflected on each leaf. A painting is an expression of the soul like an open book for all the world to enjoy. It is a lonely profession since the artist works with lifeless objects like paints, brushes and a canvas. Yet life springs out from this inanimate objects as the artist pours his own life and passion into them. The finished work is the product of everything that goes on in the artist’s heart and soul at the precise moment that he or she was in the creative process. Even how simple the painting is, whether it is done just to express a certain feeling, it becomes an extension of the self. A part of the person is recorded in a timeless piece of work, and it becomes a treasure to keep.
The magic started when I was three years old, when my mother would encourage me to draw and paint. When I was in grade school, she would bribe me with a bottle of coke when I was a bit too lazy to do any artwork. She would not mind if I consumed all the blank pages of her lesson plans with drawings of smiling faces, even as I filled all the walls and blank spaces of our rooms with women in long flowing gowns. She would still hug and praise me for what I have done. I was so proud when for the first time when a small piece of my drawing was sold when I was seven years old for five cents. My younger sister Louella, who was barely six years old would sell all my drawings to other kids during our elementary years. The thought that my sister was very bold to sell my works and that others would part with their money to buy something like that was an extremely rewarding and encouraging experience for me. I treasure those times even in later years when I would exhibit and sell my works in my few one-man shows in museums and galleries. My sister and I were so happy that both of us could draw and paint, and until she decided to focus in marine biology and finished her Ph.D in the US.
Like Vincent Van Gogh who had his brother Theo sending him art materials and all kinds of support, I am also doubly blessed by having my sister Louella, and her husband Dr. Bell Perrin, also a scientist, who have been providing me with quality art materials, encouragement, and support. Bill would personally hunt for varied art materials which he would send in his LBC boxes. The sight of these paints and brushes was enough to inspire more pieces of work. I could not ask God for more wonderful people than I already have.
Even if cancer is unpredictable, I don’t want to waste today’s blessings because of tomorrow’s fear. Today is a beautiful gift. I can paint this new day with any color I want. You too, can choose your colors for the day.
Monday, December 17, 2007
July 17,2005.
Time Flies
Bold brushstrokes of crimson and yellow splash the skies. While a lighter shade of blue slowly invades the horizon. Such beauty and majesty that only a master artist could create. You are the master painter God. Whose tireless and ever changing creativity never stops to amaze me. Yet few of us have the time to watch a beautiful sunrise. You have been busy all night, while I was sleeping; you were preparing the little buds to open. You meticulously drop a freshly sculptured dew just to give an accent on a shy, blushing rose.
I grab my canvas and my brushes, only to find that you have replaced the lighter hues with cobalt blues. Once again, you remind me that beauty is fleeting, just like life. So I just watch and store them as much as I can in my memory bank.
I’m looking forward to another series of tests, ultrasound, x-rays, blood test and scans. I know there will be needle pains and hard to find veins, since most of them have collapsed and seared by the potent chemicals that entered my body. But as you have made each one of us so wonderfully and fearfully in our mother’s womb, I know you will give my doctors and nurses just another vein.
This journey is not possible without you, Lord; every time I look at myself fear grips my whole being. I don’t know what lies ahead. I am not sure on what my doctors’ find will after the series of test. Shall I go into radiation daily for successive 28 days just like the other patients? Are they going to find the same node they found in my liver during the last ultrasound? How many times are they going to insert the needle in my veins until they find the right one that works this time? Shall I experience more pain? What happens after all this treatment? Are these going to end? How long shall I live? I really don’t mind without my hair. I find it a privilege to choose whether to wear a straight light brown or pink, or auburn hair. I know you will replace them back. My eyelids and eyebrows are gone now, but it’s nice to be painting them.
You alone have the answers. But knowing that you have sustained me along the way, give me the courage to go on. Cancer cannot take away courage, nor love, nor hope, nor can it reduce eternal life.
This storm maybe the strongest that I have ever experienced, but I don’t like to look at the wind, just like Peter, because I feel like sinking. So I don’t want to take my eyes off you. Help me to go through the day, and be fruitful for you. Your purpose is higher than mine, and you are far more wiser than any of us.
I am excited to meet my students today, and thank you for the opportunity to teach inspite of this. Tonight, I will try to capture the sunrise. My paints are no longer carcinogenic. They are all waterbase. Nice talking to you, my God.
Bold brushstrokes of crimson and yellow splash the skies. While a lighter shade of blue slowly invades the horizon. Such beauty and majesty that only a master artist could create. You are the master painter God. Whose tireless and ever changing creativity never stops to amaze me. Yet few of us have the time to watch a beautiful sunrise. You have been busy all night, while I was sleeping; you were preparing the little buds to open. You meticulously drop a freshly sculptured dew just to give an accent on a shy, blushing rose.
I grab my canvas and my brushes, only to find that you have replaced the lighter hues with cobalt blues. Once again, you remind me that beauty is fleeting, just like life. So I just watch and store them as much as I can in my memory bank.
I’m looking forward to another series of tests, ultrasound, x-rays, blood test and scans. I know there will be needle pains and hard to find veins, since most of them have collapsed and seared by the potent chemicals that entered my body. But as you have made each one of us so wonderfully and fearfully in our mother’s womb, I know you will give my doctors and nurses just another vein.
This journey is not possible without you, Lord; every time I look at myself fear grips my whole being. I don’t know what lies ahead. I am not sure on what my doctors’ find will after the series of test. Shall I go into radiation daily for successive 28 days just like the other patients? Are they going to find the same node they found in my liver during the last ultrasound? How many times are they going to insert the needle in my veins until they find the right one that works this time? Shall I experience more pain? What happens after all this treatment? Are these going to end? How long shall I live? I really don’t mind without my hair. I find it a privilege to choose whether to wear a straight light brown or pink, or auburn hair. I know you will replace them back. My eyelids and eyebrows are gone now, but it’s nice to be painting them.
You alone have the answers. But knowing that you have sustained me along the way, give me the courage to go on. Cancer cannot take away courage, nor love, nor hope, nor can it reduce eternal life.
This storm maybe the strongest that I have ever experienced, but I don’t like to look at the wind, just like Peter, because I feel like sinking. So I don’t want to take my eyes off you. Help me to go through the day, and be fruitful for you. Your purpose is higher than mine, and you are far more wiser than any of us.
I am excited to meet my students today, and thank you for the opportunity to teach inspite of this. Tonight, I will try to capture the sunrise. My paints are no longer carcinogenic. They are all waterbase. Nice talking to you, my God.
Time Flies
Bold brushstrokes of crimson and yellow splash the skies. While a lighter shade of blue slowly invades the horizon. Such beauty and majesty that only a master artist could create. You are the master painter God. Whose tireless and ever changing creativity never stops to amaze me. Yet few of us have the time to watch a beautiful sunrise. You have been busy all night, while I was sleeping; you were preparing the little buds to open. You meticulously drop a freshly sculptured dew just to give an accent on a shy, blushing rose.
I grab my canvas and my brushes, only to find that you have replaced the lighter hues with cobalt blues. Once again, you remind me that beauty is fleeting, just like life. So I just watch and store them as much as I can in my memory bank.
I’m looking forward to another series of tests, ultrasound, x-rays, blood test and scans. I know there will be needle pains and hard to find veins, since most of them have collapsed and seared by the potent chemicals that entered my body. But as you have made each one of us so wonderfully and fearfully in our mother’s womb, I know you will give my doctors and nurses just another vein.
This journey is not possible without you, Lord; every time I look at myself fear grips my whole being. I don’t know what lies ahead. I am not sure on what my doctors’ find will after the series of test. Shall I go into radiation daily for successive 28 days just like the other patients? Are they going to find the same node they found in my liver during the last ultrasound? How many times are they going to insert the needle in my veins until they find the right one that works this time? Shall I experience more pain? What happens after all this treatment? Are these going to end? How long shall I live? I really don’t mind without my hair. I find it a privilege to choose whether to wear a straight light brown or pink, or auburn hair. I know you will replace them back. My eyelids and eyebrows are gone now, but it’s nice to be painting them.
You alone have the answers. But knowing that you have sustained me along the way, give me the courage to go on. Cancer cannot take away courage, nor love, nor hope, nor can it reduce eternal life.
This storm maybe the strongest that I have ever experienced, but I don’t like to look at the wind, just like Peter, because I feel like sinking. So I don’t want to take my eyes off you. Help me to go through the day, and be fruitful for you. Your purpose is higher than mine, and you are far more wiser than any of us.
I am excited to meet my students today, and thank you for the opportunity to teach inspite of this. Tonight, I will try to capture the sunrise. My paints are no longer carcinogenic. They are all waterbase. Nice talking to you, my God.
Bold brushstrokes of crimson and yellow splash the skies. While a lighter shade of blue slowly invades the horizon. Such beauty and majesty that only a master artist could create. You are the master painter God. Whose tireless and ever changing creativity never stops to amaze me. Yet few of us have the time to watch a beautiful sunrise. You have been busy all night, while I was sleeping; you were preparing the little buds to open. You meticulously drop a freshly sculptured dew just to give an accent on a shy, blushing rose.
I grab my canvas and my brushes, only to find that you have replaced the lighter hues with cobalt blues. Once again, you remind me that beauty is fleeting, just like life. So I just watch and store them as much as I can in my memory bank.
I’m looking forward to another series of tests, ultrasound, x-rays, blood test and scans. I know there will be needle pains and hard to find veins, since most of them have collapsed and seared by the potent chemicals that entered my body. But as you have made each one of us so wonderfully and fearfully in our mother’s womb, I know you will give my doctors and nurses just another vein.
This journey is not possible without you, Lord; every time I look at myself fear grips my whole being. I don’t know what lies ahead. I am not sure on what my doctors’ find will after the series of test. Shall I go into radiation daily for successive 28 days just like the other patients? Are they going to find the same node they found in my liver during the last ultrasound? How many times are they going to insert the needle in my veins until they find the right one that works this time? Shall I experience more pain? What happens after all this treatment? Are these going to end? How long shall I live? I really don’t mind without my hair. I find it a privilege to choose whether to wear a straight light brown or pink, or auburn hair. I know you will replace them back. My eyelids and eyebrows are gone now, but it’s nice to be painting them.
You alone have the answers. But knowing that you have sustained me along the way, give me the courage to go on. Cancer cannot take away courage, nor love, nor hope, nor can it reduce eternal life.
This storm maybe the strongest that I have ever experienced, but I don’t like to look at the wind, just like Peter, because I feel like sinking. So I don’t want to take my eyes off you. Help me to go through the day, and be fruitful for you. Your purpose is higher than mine, and you are far more wiser than any of us.
I am excited to meet my students today, and thank you for the opportunity to teach inspite of this. Tonight, I will try to capture the sunrise. My paints are no longer carcinogenic. They are all waterbase. Nice talking to you, my God.
October 23, 2005
My Journey with Cancer
We’re unbelievably toxic, even before our birth
We live in a beautiful but dangerous world. The danger is not from the things we see, but from what we do not see. There are unseen enemies lurking in the dark recesses of the food we eat, the air we breathe, and the water we drink. We are toxic. Believe it or not. Studies show that even babies have high chemical exposure even before they were born.
Farmers use pesticides to make their products picture perfect and unblemished. Pesticides could also increase crop production. But it has harmful effects to humans. One of these harmful chemicals is Dichloro-diphenyl-trichloro-ethane or widely known as DDT which has been banned in the United States in 1972, yet some of its residues are still found in some tissue samples because its chemicals takes many decades to breakdown, therefore they are still being eaten by humans. DDT was found to cause cancer and yet it is still being used in some other countries and maybe in our own. The United Nations have drafted a treaty to ban the use of DDT worldwide which was finalized in the year 2000, yet there are still those who use them illegally.
These pesticides can travel thousands of kilometers through air and water. Take a look at this food chain. When these are sprayed on plants, the animals eat them, and finally we eat the meat of animals. When they are sprayed on agricultural lands, they are washed by the rains which eventually reach our rivers and the seas. If the pesticide level is high enough, it can kill the fishes but some survive with a lesser dose, and then find their way into humans as we eat them. Some of these chemicals are stored in our bodies’ fatty tissues. This build up is called bioaccumulation. Short term exposure to high level of chemicals can harm our body tissues, or may cause death, while prolonged exposure to lower levels of pesticides can cause cancer. Other harmful pesticides are birth defects and deformities.
Someone said when asked if his vegetables are sprayed, “Oh no, I don’t spray my ampalaya (bitter ground) with pesticides, I just dip them inside the can with pesticides to really make sure the worms won’t eat them.”
Yet a pesticide is only one of these unseen killers. In 1999 study funded by the world health organization, revealed that respiratory disease is the leading cause of death of children in developing countries due to air pollution. Outdated technologies, emissions from vehicles which are more than 10 years old can be serious health hazards. Lead from gasoline can retard children’s growth and cause brain damage.
You don’t smoke? Watch this. The survey also said that breathing the air in the worst air polluted city is like smoking two packs of cigarettes a day.
Everyday, as I go out and walk in the busy city streets, I tend to watch myself not to breathe too much air. Right in front of our noses, lead is pumped so hard, clogging our already clogged lungs.
How valuable is life? We watch people dying from cancer. Protecting our environment means protecting our children. We have laws to protect our environment yet we don’t implement them. Or do we really need laws to protect our only home? Is it not our nature to build our homes and make it a better place to live? Our home does not end where our backyard ends. If we destroy our ecosystem, we destroy the world, and we destroy our home, ourselves. Some sick people are only innocent victims who are caught in the crossfire of our own greed and negligence, or shall we say ignorance? But some of us have the nerve to blame God.
Do we have a choice? So what should we eat? Fruits and vegetables still top the list, but to lessen the effect of chemicals they should be washed or soak with water. Growing our own vegetables could help, but what about other foods? Some people look for organic products, which is a healthier choice.
The darkest orange and greenest colors among fruits and vegetables can prevent lung cancers and other cancers. James Duke, Ph.D., U.S. Department of Agriculture said that “Smokers should switch from cancer sticks to carrot sticks and soy beans.”
Everyone is clamoring for change. But who will change? Our president? The government? Our leaders? How about us? We could start within ourselves. Let us check our cars, our motorcycles, how much toxic do we contribute everyday?
In the beginning, God gave us a green, clean, and healthy world. We were meant to take care of our one and only planet. He made an amazing world not to be trampled upon but to be cared for. Genesis 1:31 says “God saw all that He had made, and it was very good…”
Friday, December 7, 2007
October 9,2005
Death is a certainty: a question of when
What is the difference between a person who has a terminal disease and the one who does not have and yet both of them will meet death eventually almost at the same time? Or the latter may die even earlier? What is the difference between someone lying on a cancer bed and the one who dies in a plane crash, or those who die in hurricane Katrina or in a landslide, or in a recent bombing in Bali Indonesia? These questions were thrown to me lately. Is it better to know or not know? Which is preferable?
The answer is highly debatable. You are giving your own answer right now, even as you read this article.
There is a big difference. A person whose days are numbered and he knew it may profit immensely from knowing that his time is limited. But his response may depend on what he is ma de of. Others refuse to face the truth. I used to feel that way. Before my diagnosis, I knew that there was something wrong with my body even without any outward manifestations. The hardest thing was to face it, and submit myself to a specialist. I courted the possibilities of running away, no surgery, no chemotherapy, no hassles, just die in an obscure place, not giving any hard time to people I love. I used to see movies of that sort, and I used to think that was very romantic. But when it became a reality to me, it wasn’t romantic at all.
God had other plans.
When the final verdict came, and I saw it all in print, little red dots on white paper, which showed how extensive the tumors were in both breasts, based on an ultrasound, my whole being turned to God. The impact was too great that I realized that no one, not even those who love me could carry my burden for me even if they would want to. I had nothing except God. Only through total acceptance of my predicament and submission to my Creator brought me peace that surpassed all understanding. For the past eight months, I had to go through everything from surgery to chemotherapy, with the assurance that God would be there, every inch of the way. He used people to help and minister to me. Someone wrote, “Faith is daring the soul to go beyond the eyes can see.” The bible says that “…faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”
In some instances, my oncologist would call my husband and talked to him privately about my situation. I had insisted to know everything. Knowing the truth gave me specific things to ask God for. Truth could hurt, but knowing my enemy which is cancer gives me weapon to fight.
When we come to think of it, life is but a small dot and the rest is eternity. Have we asked ourselves, after that dot what happens? We re-evaluate our existence. Why are we here? Do we have a purpose? What is the purpose of our brain which can store 100 trillion facts and our minds which can handle 15,000 decisions a second? Did God equip us with all these abilities only to enrich ourselves or amass power, positions, fame or knowledge? Which is more important in life, money or relationships? Are we here to worship money? Or God? Wealth is a blessing, only when it is shared for the purpose of pleasing the ultimate Giver.
When God gives us comfort, it is not because he wants us to become comfortable, but to comport others.
Even painful experiences can be used to help others. How many of us have felt pain? It may vary in a certain degree and certain types, but pain is pain. Whether it is emotional, financial, physical, psychological or spiritual. But pain should not be wasted. Aldus Huxley said, “Experience is not what you do with what happens to you.” Only you who have undergone a certain type of pain could understand the person who is in the same situation. It is only you, who have felt the same way could reach out and comfort others like you.
There is a world of difference between a person who knows that his days are counted and realize his priorities in life and those who have taken it for granted and caught in a surprise ending. Pain or prolonged pain won’t matter anymore when life draws its final curtain. Shall we wait when trials knock at our doors to see the diffence?
Death is a certainty: a question of when
What is the difference between a person who has a terminal disease and the one who does not have and yet both of them will meet death eventually almost at the same time? Or the latter may die even earlier? What is the difference between someone lying on a cancer bed and the one who dies in a plane crash, or those who die in hurricane Katrina or in a landslide, or in a recent bombing in Bali Indonesia? These questions were thrown to me lately. Is it better to know or not know? Which is preferable?
The answer is highly debatable. You are giving your own answer right now, even as you read this article.
There is a big difference. A person whose days are numbered and he knew it may profit immensely from knowing that his time is limited. But his response may depend on what he is ma de of. Others refuse to face the truth. I used to feel that way. Before my diagnosis, I knew that there was something wrong with my body even without any outward manifestations. The hardest thing was to face it, and submit myself to a specialist. I courted the possibilities of running away, no surgery, no chemotherapy, no hassles, just die in an obscure place, not giving any hard time to people I love. I used to see movies of that sort, and I used to think that was very romantic. But when it became a reality to me, it wasn’t romantic at all.
God had other plans.
When the final verdict came, and I saw it all in print, little red dots on white paper, which showed how extensive the tumors were in both breasts, based on an ultrasound, my whole being turned to God. The impact was too great that I realized that no one, not even those who love me could carry my burden for me even if they would want to. I had nothing except God. Only through total acceptance of my predicament and submission to my Creator brought me peace that surpassed all understanding. For the past eight months, I had to go through everything from surgery to chemotherapy, with the assurance that God would be there, every inch of the way. He used people to help and minister to me. Someone wrote, “Faith is daring the soul to go beyond the eyes can see.” The bible says that “…faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”
In some instances, my oncologist would call my husband and talked to him privately about my situation. I had insisted to know everything. Knowing the truth gave me specific things to ask God for. Truth could hurt, but knowing my enemy which is cancer gives me weapon to fight.
When we come to think of it, life is but a small dot and the rest is eternity. Have we asked ourselves, after that dot what happens? We re-evaluate our existence. Why are we here? Do we have a purpose? What is the purpose of our brain which can store 100 trillion facts and our minds which can handle 15,000 decisions a second? Did God equip us with all these abilities only to enrich ourselves or amass power, positions, fame or knowledge? Which is more important in life, money or relationships? Are we here to worship money? Or God? Wealth is a blessing, only when it is shared for the purpose of pleasing the ultimate Giver.
When God gives us comfort, it is not because he wants us to become comfortable, but to comport others.
Even painful experiences can be used to help others. How many of us have felt pain? It may vary in a certain degree and certain types, but pain is pain. Whether it is emotional, financial, physical, psychological or spiritual. But pain should not be wasted. Aldus Huxley said, “Experience is not what you do with what happens to you.” Only you who have undergone a certain type of pain could understand the person who is in the same situation. It is only you, who have felt the same way could reach out and comfort others like you.
There is a world of difference between a person who knows that his days are counted and realize his priorities in life and those who have taken it for granted and caught in a surprise ending. Pain or prolonged pain won’t matter anymore when life draws its final curtain. Shall we wait when trials knock at our doors to see the diffence?
Bone Scan
October 2, 2005
My Journey with Cancer
Bone Scan
I have heard the words “bone scan” very often among cancer patients since I entered the world of Cancer. Every one of us seemed to be excited about this kind of test. Although, honestly, I had to ask, is it painful? How does it go? How long does it take? How do you feel when the result is bad? Finally, my turn came, after eight months since surgery.
Stately palm trees receded from the distance as the small sea craft, with a capacity of about 30 people left the island for Cebu. The sea green water danced with the sunlight. The sea was calm. But my heart and mind were miles away, wandering inside the Cebu Cancer Institute. I willed myself to focus on the present. I cannot waste today’s blessings because of tomorrow’s fear. But human as I am, I thought about the scan and its result, and fear, with its ugly face, smiled wickedly.
Once, my husband and I were inside the glass walls of the Cebu Cancer Institute, with all its modern facilities, and state-of-the-art technology, the smell of chemicals from the chemotherapy rooms brought shooting arrows into my forehead. But the effect was immediately softened by friendly and sympathetic smiles from the staff.
The purpose of the bone scan was to find out whether cancer has metastasized into my bones. The process took more no pain except for the needle works. The nurses were kind and gentle. Their hands, light as feathers did the work expertly, as they found the right vein. I don’t want to pretend that I know some medical terminologies, but what I was aware of was that I had radio-active elements inside my body, that would stay for about six hours. I was told to isolate myself from pregnant women and children for that number of hours.
Not bad. I was made to lie down on a sheet of cold metal, covered with soft fabric, as I was told gently that I should close my eyes, refrain from any movement and talking for the next forty minutes. I thought, that was a tall order. I could feel my heart beating hard against my ribcage, wanting to be free. My body was strapped securedly into the machine even as I told them with humor, that it was not necessary since I won’t try to escape. They smiled, and told me kindly that some movements may surprise me and that I had to keep still but everything will be fine.
Then the music played. The instrument sound was so soothing, that my and my body began to relax.
I found out that trying to keep still when you are told to do it is not an easy task. Forty minutes seemed eternity. But as the machine was moving above and under me, scanning every bit of my skeleton, so slowly, like a moon doing its orbit around the earth, I thought about Psalms 139:13-16 “ For you created my inmost being, you knit me together in my mother’s womb, I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made, your works are wonderful… my frame was not hidden from you when I was made in a secret place, when I was wove n together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body…all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of the m came to be.”
This wonderful reality played in my mind, as the machine recorded every single bone I have. So I thought, if God had given me so much thought, He alone has a power to bring then result He wanted me to have. During this time, while my mind was focusing on those passages, and imploring His mercy, friends were praying for me, and their messages, brought me hope.
I was subjected to other tests afterwards, but these were routine tests and ultrasounds every month. My liver showed improvement, although it is still six times above the normal in sgpt. But I pray that the healing continues.
Our bodies amaze me. God has made us wonderfully our skeletal system is composed of 206 separate bones and some cartilages. Our skull has 22 bones.
In Rick Warren’s book “The Purpose Driven Life, he emphasized that all abilities come from God. And that studies show that an average person possesses from 500 to 700 different skills and abilities. Our minds can handle 15,000 decisions a second. Our brain can take in 100 trillion information while our nose can smell 10,000 various odors. Our touch can detect an item 1/25,000th of an inch thick. We are complex, highly organized, gifted with bundle of incredible abilities. Yet some of these gifts lay dormant, waiting to be discovered. We can use these talents to give glory back to the one who authored it. We are more special than apes. Yes, God took pleasure with us when He made us.
Finally all my results came in beautiful colors. My bone scan showed no metastases. I thank God for that. I felt so euphoric that even if my doctor told me that in my case, there is a high probability that there will be a recurrence of breast cancer within two years, and that I had to pray harder for the next one year and four months, I was not dismayed. But all these possibilities seem not to matter with my hope that God is sovereign. He is in control. He knows what He is doing. And no matter how long or how short He allows me to live, He knows what is best. Our time is perfectly synchronized with His clock.
My Journey with Cancer
Bone Scan
I have heard the words “bone scan” very often among cancer patients since I entered the world of Cancer. Every one of us seemed to be excited about this kind of test. Although, honestly, I had to ask, is it painful? How does it go? How long does it take? How do you feel when the result is bad? Finally, my turn came, after eight months since surgery.
Stately palm trees receded from the distance as the small sea craft, with a capacity of about 30 people left the island for Cebu. The sea green water danced with the sunlight. The sea was calm. But my heart and mind were miles away, wandering inside the Cebu Cancer Institute. I willed myself to focus on the present. I cannot waste today’s blessings because of tomorrow’s fear. But human as I am, I thought about the scan and its result, and fear, with its ugly face, smiled wickedly.
Once, my husband and I were inside the glass walls of the Cebu Cancer Institute, with all its modern facilities, and state-of-the-art technology, the smell of chemicals from the chemotherapy rooms brought shooting arrows into my forehead. But the effect was immediately softened by friendly and sympathetic smiles from the staff.
The purpose of the bone scan was to find out whether cancer has metastasized into my bones. The process took more no pain except for the needle works. The nurses were kind and gentle. Their hands, light as feathers did the work expertly, as they found the right vein. I don’t want to pretend that I know some medical terminologies, but what I was aware of was that I had radio-active elements inside my body, that would stay for about six hours. I was told to isolate myself from pregnant women and children for that number of hours.
Not bad. I was made to lie down on a sheet of cold metal, covered with soft fabric, as I was told gently that I should close my eyes, refrain from any movement and talking for the next forty minutes. I thought, that was a tall order. I could feel my heart beating hard against my ribcage, wanting to be free. My body was strapped securedly into the machine even as I told them with humor, that it was not necessary since I won’t try to escape. They smiled, and told me kindly that some movements may surprise me and that I had to keep still but everything will be fine.
Then the music played. The instrument sound was so soothing, that my and my body began to relax.
I found out that trying to keep still when you are told to do it is not an easy task. Forty minutes seemed eternity. But as the machine was moving above and under me, scanning every bit of my skeleton, so slowly, like a moon doing its orbit around the earth, I thought about Psalms 139:13-16 “ For you created my inmost being, you knit me together in my mother’s womb, I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made, your works are wonderful… my frame was not hidden from you when I was made in a secret place, when I was wove n together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body…all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of the m came to be.”
This wonderful reality played in my mind, as the machine recorded every single bone I have. So I thought, if God had given me so much thought, He alone has a power to bring then result He wanted me to have. During this time, while my mind was focusing on those passages, and imploring His mercy, friends were praying for me, and their messages, brought me hope.
I was subjected to other tests afterwards, but these were routine tests and ultrasounds every month. My liver showed improvement, although it is still six times above the normal in sgpt. But I pray that the healing continues.
Our bodies amaze me. God has made us wonderfully our skeletal system is composed of 206 separate bones and some cartilages. Our skull has 22 bones.
In Rick Warren’s book “The Purpose Driven Life, he emphasized that all abilities come from God. And that studies show that an average person possesses from 500 to 700 different skills and abilities. Our minds can handle 15,000 decisions a second. Our brain can take in 100 trillion information while our nose can smell 10,000 various odors. Our touch can detect an item 1/25,000th of an inch thick. We are complex, highly organized, gifted with bundle of incredible abilities. Yet some of these gifts lay dormant, waiting to be discovered. We can use these talents to give glory back to the one who authored it. We are more special than apes. Yes, God took pleasure with us when He made us.
Finally all my results came in beautiful colors. My bone scan showed no metastases. I thank God for that. I felt so euphoric that even if my doctor told me that in my case, there is a high probability that there will be a recurrence of breast cancer within two years, and that I had to pray harder for the next one year and four months, I was not dismayed. But all these possibilities seem not to matter with my hope that God is sovereign. He is in control. He knows what He is doing. And no matter how long or how short He allows me to live, He knows what is best. Our time is perfectly synchronized with His clock.
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