Remembrance and Faith in the Future

The last couple of weeks sure have been interesting, to say the least!  One thing I will  give no air time to, is, well you know, the reality show south of our border.  Enough said about that.  

Life goes on and the sun comes up each day, and we have been blessed with good weather, good people in our lives and a society that is one of the kindest and most tolerant in the world. We have been born into freedom that was hard fought for by those ahead of us, and it's reassuring to see so many deliberate actions and events  to recognize the and remember those who valiantly made our country what it is.

An appointment yesterday with the symptom doctor is leading us to more testing after all.  When I met with her mid-September she suggested a bone scan which I politely declined, admittedly due to fear.  It was a time when I felt we just needed a break.  Since then the achey, painful joints along with sore muscles, have caused my imagination to rev up, fuelling my mental ferris wheel with countless pockets of 'what ifs'.  Surprisingly, it was pointed out to me by one loyal blog follower that I hadn't mentioned anything about pain in the last post, and so they presumed I was frolicking about pain free.  Hmmm....truth is, not so much.

The plan is that I will have a bone scan on December 1st,  blood work done in preparation for a cat scan and a follow up appointment to review the results on December 13th.  I know what I'll be putting on my Christmas wish list!  Prayers, good thoughts, white light, and lots of them thank you very much.  

This past Sunday, Father Leo invited four people to witness where God has been in their lives during periods of loss, both physically and of possessions.  Can you see it coming already?  On Thursday of last week, he gently threw out the suggestion that Liz Dobbs Jones might be willing to share part of her story.   Ok, give me a microphone and 5 minutes in front of a captive audience and I'm off to the races.  In preparation, I reviewed the first few posts of Adventures in Prayer and Medicine to see how I had handled the news of reading in my medical file stating, in black and white,  I had likely less than a year to live.  

The context of our talk was to focus on loss of 'possessions', if possible, rather than health or life as they had been discussed in the prior week's homily.  My choice of events included those having a direct link to tangible loss, hence the comments about retirement, which you will read shortly.  While much of it will sound familiar to you as it probably did to many of those listening on Sunday, it may spark a little thought or two about your own life and where you turn in times of trouble or distress.

Sunday, November 13, 2016
Thank Fr. Leo for the opportunity to give witness to the gospel through personal experience. 

I’m here to speak to you by the grace of God, help of the Holy Spirit and the greatest respect for every one here as each and every one of you have your own story.

August 2012 -  a routine medical procedure led to a permanent, medical disability.

I lost my professional identity overnight, after a 35 year career.

My Adventures in Prayer and Medicine were born with many tumbles down rabbit holes ever since. The first adventure was 8 months of surgery, chemo and radiation. 

For the first time in my life, with faith in hand, I wrote a personal mission statement that read, in part, “To accept the privilege of walking in faith to learn what’s possible through the combined power of prayer and medicine.  If this is my cross to bear, may I do so with dignity, humility and grace.” 
That proved to be a tall order!

Two weeks after my final chemo, I hurt my back. It grew increasingly worse amid physical activity that defied any major damage.  

Six weeks later, the L1 vertebrae in my spine burst while going down the few stairs to the family room.  Imagine an internal explosion of pain.  Major surgery included cat scans, which, revealed cancer cells had spread to my liver.  I went home with a cane two weeks after surgery. 

A few days later, while leafing through my medical file I came across a totally shocking and earth shattering comment of which I had previously had no recollection. 

It read that I had been seen on June 15, 2013 by the oncology team, and told “there is a metastases with disease to the liver.  Survival may be short – likely less than a year.”  On reading that comment, my knees crumpled, all went black and down I went with my freshly titanium reinforced spine.

The sense of loss and despair was gut wrenching. In addition to the potential physical loss of life, as Job 5:5 reflects, the thirsty pant for their wealth.  Not that I consider myself particularly wealthy, these feelings surfaced.  I had worked hard all my life, been responsible in trying to save for the future, with the very real possibility of never seeing retirement, and all the joy that comes with it in terms of time with family. 

I felt like Job in 9:17-18 “For he crushes me with a tempest and multiplies my wounds without cause; He will not let me get my breath, but fills me with bitterness.”

Here I’d been trying so hard to let God lead me through these trials and then He allows this into my life?  The only thing I could do as I was reaching the end of my rope, was to tie a knot and hang on while waving the white flag of surrender to God. 

Now, 3 years later, I’m still here partly due to a medication that induced an 80 pound weight gain to suppress the spread of cells in my liver.  This experience tested my pride and humility as no other.   I lost my physical identity to the point of not being recognized by people I’ve known for 30 years and suffered significant mobility restrictions.  On reflection, this was more difficult to deal with than all other cancer treatment.

When Fr. Leo posed the question about where we might be in our life’s journey of loss in terms of the Book of Job, I liken it to being in a giant game of snakes and ladders.  If this happens, you slide back to here, or if that happens, you climb up to there.  I’ve learned we all have to go to those dark places inside ourselves in times of tragic loss, but more importantly, we can’t stay there.  We must grab the brass ring of faith and hope, and hold on for dear life as God guides us through any and all trials.

I don't begrudge anything I've been through and am trying to keep my faith. At times it’s a challenge, but the hidden blessings along the way have been many.

When we find ourselves in difficult, life changing situations, most of us need to let our world shrink to a size we can manage. And it’s ok.

I've learned that sometimes our fierce independence robs others of being able to demonstrate kindness, affection and caring.  I've learned when feeling down, the best antidote is to extend a helping hand to someone else.

While I’m at a point where I’m deemed medically incurable, and have had another 5 months of chemo this year, my decision is to be well every day until I’m not, understanding it’s only by the grace of and reliance on Jesus that can happen.

I’d like to close with sharing my personal daily intention during prayers. 

That is “For total acceptance and trust in God’s will for all aspects of my life with a wise, understanding and discerning heart, and peace in my soul, in the name of His Son, our Lord Jesus Christ”.

Thank you.

And thank you, for allowing me to share these comments with you.  

We've had lots of fun along the way these last couple of weeks starting with meeting Conor, the young lad who collects can tabs on behalf of Brett Babcock, a local, former trampolinist, now confined to a wheelchair to due a tragic fall during practice.  One friend from church brought over a 5 gallon pail of the tabs so we had an impromptu gathering of 4-5 friends.  Giving Conor the last word - he said he was 'speechless' by the huge contribution.  Another friend arranged to have Conor speak on radio this morning, 93.5 FM the country music station.  I hope to track it down online somehow.  

Having always wanted to see the rock band Supertramp perform live, it became somewhat of a reality last Wednesday at the K-Rock Centre.  Roger Hodgson (Roger who?  Ya, I said the same thing) was the co-founder, lead singer and songwriter for Supertramp and has been performing solo, with a back up band for a number of years now.  It was awesome!  In preparation, I looked up lots of the songs to refresh my memory on the lyrics.  And yes, I had a number of them wrong all these years so had to rehearse a few times before concert night!  It's really quite amazing how much enjoyment one can have without planning far away exotic trips and vacations.  

In closing I can't help but share a little story about Mike.  Yesterday I bought him his Christmas present - the newest version of a lawn rake which has exploded in popularity in the last couple of years.  A high power gas leaf blower.  It came with a full tank of gas.  When we got home he went through the whole tank, went and got more gas, and 'blew' through another full tank!  He blew out the garage, the driveway, front porch, steps, sidewalk, lawn, then went down tot he black yard and build a 'leaf wall' along the creek.  He is thrilled with his new gadget and is already talking about how others use theirs to blow light snow off decks, cars, sidewalks.  Can't you just picture it now, Mike getting dressed as each couple of centimetres falls during a storm, rushing out to blow it away!  

We sure are getting joy out of the simple things in life and adjusting very well to sharing most days with one another.  God willing, we will have many more!
Take care and God Bless,

Hugs
Liz

dobbsjones@gmail.com

"Prayers wrapped in faith and sent with love are the greatest gifts we can receive".