Cancer SUCKS!

I really hate that last word in the title for this blog. I try not to use it, but I must confess it's the best word in regard to my feelings about cancer. I am apologizing in advance because it will appear again in this blog entry. If it bothers you to the point of not getting the point of this blog entry, just surf onto something else now. Ok, enough of the disclaimer about the use of the word I don't like to use.

Prior to having cancer followed by chemo and radiation, I thought the disease was just sad and disappointing. Keep in mind that prior to my dance with this disease I was around it on a fairly regular basis----occupational hazard and as a result I walked through some tough stuff with families in the cancer battle. However, it didn't really SUCK (last apology) until I got it.

Let me be clear. Just because something sucks, doesn't mean you can't respect it, or appreciate its reach, scope and impact. It doesn't mean you can't learn from it. To the contrary. I've learned a lot about myself, faith, life, medicine, and people because of cancer. It doesn't mean I have to like it. I don't like having a flat tire, but because I've had one, I know exactly how disruptive and inconvenient it can be. I don't like root canals, but having had one I have a deeper appreciation, or shall I say aversion to them.

Although I've completed my chemo and radiation, today one simple, little act of health maintenance reminded me that I am not free of cancer's grip. I had to have my port flushed at the Cancer Center. My port is still in my chest for a year in case the cancer returns. Now there's a thought I try not to entertain too often because that would mean transplant therapy and oober chemo to prepare for it. The port has to be flushed every six weeks to prevent clotting. Ah the lovely smell of saline and heparin being injected into your chest brings back those warm (NOT!) chemo infusion day memories.

So what brought this about? This week in my world: 1) a good friend and fellow pastor, Charlie has been diagnosed with a stage 4, inoperable brain tumor; 2) one of our elders and also a good friend has been diagnosed with slow-growing NHL; 3) the father of an old friend and parishioner has been diagnosed with a malignant lung/cardio tumor and; 4) a close friend is awaiting word on suspicious prostate biopsies. That's all it took! And for anyone who has had, or has cancer, that's ENOUGH. It's one thing when it's my body, but when it's people I love and care about, it is just too much.

We cannot escape cancer in a fallen world. God never intended it to be part of human DNA. His first paradise was created in perfection before humans corrupted it with the selfishness of sin. Thanks be to God that his second and eternal paradise will, according to His promises, be free of cancer, disease, tears, pain, sorrow, etc.

But for now cancer still SUCKS! Being patient, learning hard lessons from, and processing my cancer is one thing. But wanting to "fix" the cancer in these loved ones and others is sometimes overwhelming because I don't want them to have to go through it. And then I realize, I can't "fix" it for them, and if I could it would deprive them of the deep truths, rich experiences and personal growth they can experience on the journey no matter how dark it may appear. It would keep them from knowing God and leaning into His word like never before. It would rob them of the joy that really can be found in suffering. Still, I pray and plead to God for their healing. God absolutely ROCKS, but cancer still SUCKS!