October 22nd - Blog Update from Greg

My heart is steadfast, O God;
I will sing and make music with all my soul.
For great is your love, higher than the heavens;
Your faithfulness reaches to the skies.

With God we will do valiantly--
it is He who shall tread down our enemy.
                                              from Psalm 108


Greetings to You, Friends and Family,

Two months have come and gone and I am shocked to see how long it's been since I have sent out an update. So sorry for the long silence. Sometimes life just goes about its business with no big changes or "news flashes" to report.

Not that I am ungrateful for the fact that life goes on--I prefer that these days! And I am ever so aware of the goodness and faithfulness of God.

My journey continues. Last month I made the decision not to take the oral chemo drug that my oncologist suggested. I have always thought I would take it as a part of my total treatment plan, but I have come right up to the point of taking it about 4 times now and always found a reason not to! The last time I planned this was September. I made all my appointments for labs, scans, doctor visits, etc. Everything was lined up. I even took the pills out of the bottle and divided them up in the little dosage container that came with them.

But when Monday came around and I was supposed to start taking them, I just couldn't do it. I sat at the kitchen counter and look at those little red pills...and they did not speak life back to me. I couldn't put them in my mouth. Was God trying to tell me something, or was I just being cowardly?

I prayed and struggled with it for several days, asking God for wisdom and clarity. I finally came to the conclusion that I was not supposed to take them at this point. I have set them on the shelf--for now anyway. And I felt free to do that. I had tried way too hard to convince myself to take them, and for good reasons. Although they are not curative (considering the Stage 4 diagnosis), there has been some success with them temporarily halting the growth or even shrinking the size of tumors. But I was still concerned about the side effects and their impact on my kidney.

In the end I simply have to say it just didn't feel right. To put it another way, it was not life-giving to my spirit, and as a child of God I have to listen to that inner voice.

Granted, I did not hear a booming voice from heaven saying, "Stop! Don't take the pills, Greg." But God often speaks in the still, small voice that is "felt" more than it is heard. When I looked at those pills they did not speak life to me.

I was reminded of several years ago when I went with a group of people from church to the north rim of the Grand Canyon. It just so happened on the night we were there that there was going to be an eclipse of the moon. Some of us decided to sign up for a short hike that would lead us to a rocky outcropping for a beautiful view of the eclipse as we overlooked the canyon.

So at around 11 PM off we went, about 20 of us, with flashlights in hand, putting our trust in the park ranger who led the excursion. All she told us was to follow her, be sure to use our flashlights so we did not stumble on the many rocks, and stay on the trail. The path followed the side of large rock wall that was part of the canyon. It was on the "non-moon" side, so it was pitch dark. There isn't a lot of artificial light at the north rim, so dark is DARK.

We followed with confidence, talking, laughing and enjoying the adventure, all the while relying on the yellow circle of our flashlight to show us where to take our next step. We made it to the outcropping and the eclipse was stunning, especially as seen with the added beauty of the moon-lit canyon directly below.

Well, the next day Jeane and I decided to go follow that same path just so we could see where we had been. We started down the path and we were shocked by what we saw. On one side of the 3-to-5-foot-wide path there was a rocky wall, which we knew because we had felt of it as we went along. But the other side was a drop-off, and it was no small thing. At some points the edge of the trail just dropped off into the canyon. And it was a long distance down! We would have certainly been injured or even died if we had wandered over there. We were more than a little perplexed that the ranger had not warned us more pointedly of the danger of that drop-off. And yet, if we followed her instructions carefully and did not go off the path we were fine. We felt safe, even though there was a drop-off a couple feet away that we couldn't see!

In 2 Samuel 22:29 Scripture says, "You are my lamp, O Lord; the Lord turns my darkness into light;" and the psalmist talks about God's word as "a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path." Psalms 119:105

I can't see the whole picture of this cancer deal. I can't even see a month ahead. But what I do have is a God who leads the way and lights my path--one step at a time. Sometimes that's all we need; we need light for just the next step. There may be dangerous drop-offs ahead, but I can proceed with confidence with the light I have.

That's hard to do. We want to see the whole canyon--the big picture. But I feel safe with the light of my Father who knows what he's doing. And I strive to live in contentment and gratitude for each day. For now, I feel that I have been shown the path that says, "Don't take this drug." I could be wrong--it wouldn't be the first time. But I am sure that if I keep my ears turned toward heaven, God will let me know.

Dr. Wong, my ever-patient oncologist, said he could not argue with my reasons for not taking the drug at this point, especially as it concerns my kidney. He is hanging in there with me and will help me monitor my health. He has ordered an MRI for November. He examined me, felt for the tumor in my leg and could barely find it. He listened to my lungs and found no compromise in my breathing. My kidney has not improved much according to recent blood tests, although it seems to have stabilized since two months ago and has not gotten worse. Hallelujah.

I am really feeling good. I've been back to Oasis of Hope for two follow-up visits since my initial 2 weeks there. I have found some of the therapies available here in Phoenix, including a hyperbaric oxygen chamber which I use 2-3 times a week. Only this one is huge compared to the ones at Oasis of Hope. Every time I get in I feel like Jacque Cousteau preparing for a "voyage to the bottom of the sea." It's kind of like crawling into a huge propane tank with the luxury of a place to sit and a couple of porthole windows. And to make it even more interesting, this one is used by many children, so to make it less intimidating it is painted baby blue with little fish on it. Can't you just see me?

Still, I happily subject myself to it. There has been a good deal of research and study done on the benefits of oxygen for a multitude of physical conditions, including burns and wounds, autism, and many other maladies. The world of professional sports uses hyperbaric chambers all the time for their athletes to speed up healing of injuries.

The fun thing is that when you emerge from the hyperbaric chamber the big boost of oxygen makes you feel great--totally energized and ready to go! I think I'll buy one for my living room. Just kidding.

That's all for now. I thank you for keeping me in your prayers. It's good to be part of the family of God, and that is never more important than when you have a battle to fight that you cannot fight alone.

Bless you,

Greg