Metabolic Resolution

I am backtracking to last Monday. I did the mid-treatment scan and the results indicate that all the hotspot, except one, show metabolic resolution. Yes indeed, what does that really mean? The medical jargons de-personalise it by leading you into thinking that it is about "the subject" and not you. I caught myself looking at the name of the report a couple of times as if to confirm that it is really my report. Or perhaps I sub-consciously did that because it was the only part of the report I could comprehend.

What I went for was a F-18 Flourodeoxyglucose (FDG) Positron Emission Tomographic (PET) scan coupled with non-contrast Computed Tomography (CT) scan. Essentially I took radioactive sugar as a tracer. The level of tracer uptake by the cells in the body are markers for cancer. Malignant cells metabolise glucose at a much faster rate than healthy cells. The results are correlated with the 3D  x-rays from the CT scan to give the doctor a pretty good idea of what is happening inside down to the cellular level.

Metabolic resolution means that the metabolic process in the areas that were previously hotspots is back to normal, hence a resolution. I wouldn't blame you for thinking that it meant the PET scan resolution has picked up some unusual activities there. Always useful to have the oncologist guide you through the report. So very positive news. The treatment is working as intended. "The previously noted FDG-avid lymph node in the para-oesophageal region has reduced in metabolic activity and size". That is the remaining malignant cells that still need to be cleared out over the course of the next 3 months. The oncologist said that overall the results are within expectations and nothing out of the ordinary.

Someone asked me whether I was happy with the result? I took a moment to figure out a response. I wasn't happy as in I was jumping out and down. I wasn't particularly stressed up about what the scan may say because I have in some ways learnt to take it as it comes. Nevertheless relieved, even though there is remnant that needs to clear up. Thankful is perhaps a better description.

I am thankful for so much support, encouragement and prayers over the last few months. And I am thankful that God speaks loudly and clearly in uncertain times.


As the rain and the snow
    come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
    without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
    so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,
11 so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
    It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
    and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.
12 You will go out in joy
    and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills
    will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field
    will clap their hands.
13 Instead of the thornbush will grow the juniper,
    and instead of briers the myrtle will grow.
This will be for the Lord’s renown,
    for an everlasting sign,
    that will endure forever.”
~ Isaiah 55: 10-13

Drawing Near

I wrote about this several weeks back, about God speaking in no unclear terms. It happened again this past few days. I want to write it down before I forget, but honestly, what great lost if I were to forget.

Mid last week, I prayed as I was driving in to  work in the morning. One thing I have been doing for the last 6 months has been to tune the radio to the classical music station. Much as I enjoy Kiss 92 FM, it is too much distraction for a morning prayer. I prayed about certain disappointments in my life, not cancer. Deep inside I know that disappointments take root because I allow them to, and I allowed it because they were the most satisfying humanly response to those situations. And God's prompting over the last few months has been that He is enough for me.

And to that I told God that I believe He is there but sometimes it feels like I am making excuses for Him - that he is there even though nobody can see him, that he is always good even though many things around us aren't good at all. As I write this I am resting from a medical procedure in the hospital and I can hear a young child crying in fear as he undergoes his procedure. What is a child doing in the radiology department any way? Sometimes it feels like God absentism.  I don't really believe it but it does feel that way at times. When I got into the office that morning, I flipped my devotional calendar to the correct day as I hadn't been referring to it for a few days. I was speechless when I realised that that day's devotion was about God being the only one who can fill us up completely. Nothing else was going to be enough. 

I got up early yesterday morning after rolling in bed for an hour. I was about to go for a walk but decided against it because it looked like rain was coming. It was the right call because the rain came very soon after. Rainy days are great for thinking so I got back under the duvet. I thought about my keeping-a-safe-distance relationship with God. You hear me talking about God quite a bit, but we don't have a best buddy status. I certainly wasn't loving "the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength". I told God just that, that I honestly struggle to feel the Shema. 

God certainly heard me that morning. When I got to church, one of the pastoral team members who has been praying for me gave me John Bevere's book "Drawing Near, A Life of  Intimacy with God".  The back cover urges the reader "not to settle for the dry shadow of Christianity that knows about God without knowing God. The incredible invitation from the Creator of the universe is not just to worship Him from afar with words and rituals, but to enter a relationship so meaningful and intimate that you know His heart, and He knows yours".  That might as well have been the words of my prayer earlier that morning. The sermon that morning also spoke directly to me. Based on Psalm 8, the message was about us being created, cherished and commissioned by God for His purpose. 

It feels like @God is following my mental tweets, and responding to them.


When I consider your heavens,
 the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
 which you have set in place,
4 what is mankind that you are mindful of them,
human beings that you care for them?
Psalm 8 : 3-4

His Eyes on the Sparrow

Monday is my mid-treatment PET scan. I completed 3 cycles of chemo and it is time to see how effective the treatment has been in clearing out the lymphoma from my body. I go in early morning for a blood test to see whether my white blood count has improved since last Thursday where it looked pretty low. If it remains low, the doctor may give me an additional set of booster jabs. After the blood test I head to the radiology department to make the necessary preparations for the scan. I've already set  my mobile's alarm to remind me a few times on Monday morning to go nil by mouth. If I forget, I will have to cancel the scan and still pay for the radioactive tracers, which would be an expensive mistake to make.

The scan results will be ready on the same day for the oncologist to run through with me. Typically, the treatment that I am on should clear up the lymphoma after 3 cycles, so I am hoping for the best. I have done my part, everything else is in God's good hands. If the outcome is good, then that is a wonderful outcome. If the outcome is not so good, I will still trust that He hasn't overlooked me. His eyes are on the sparrow. He has a story for me to live out and by His grace I shall learn to live it out faithfully. His eyes are on the sparrow.

Recently a friend from Hong Kong messaged me to see how I was getting on. When I asked her how she was, she said "I'm focusing on the good things only so all good and well!" Words of wisdom which I will be borrowing from her.


Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? 
Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. 
And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 
So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.
Matthew 10: 29-31

Nerves

Friday nights ought not to be so stressful. I hadn't plan to watch the Olympics Games but while I was waiting for my dinner I decided to see what was on. Turned out to be the Men's Badminton semi-finals between Malaysia's Lee Chong Wei and China's Lin Dan. It was a torture to watch. Both these men were going all out to make each other lose. Punch for punch, it was brutal. Not knowing for sure just drives me crazy. If there was a way to fast forward the live telecast, I would have pressed the button.

I skipped over most of the other semi-final match. It wasn't a close fight and I needed some shut eye because I realised that the Women's Finals was next. Turned out to be a good strategy because the Spain vs India finals was another nail-biter. I've not been following badminton for a long time so I have not seen either women play before. Spain's Carolina was the strong favourite but India's Sindhu put up an excellent fight. The women were more vocal during the match compared to their male counterparts. It felt like the Grand Slams.

Just when I thought the live telecast was over, I realised that the Men's Doubles Finals was next. I was a bag of nerves watching that match. I could almost picture my brother in KL going hysterical over the closely fought match. Both teams were equally forceful and it could have gone either way.  If there was a way to call it a draw, somebody would have because it was too hard to watch either teams lose. But at last, China won and you could see the visible pain on one of the Malaysian player's face. Disappointment is bitter. The agony of defeat.

I stumbled on the matches while waiting for my dinner and ended up with more than 5 hours of nerves. And my mind is still on hyperdrive now. If I was playing, I would have been overcome by the fear of defeat. I salute these athletes who dare to try, dare to fight and dare to lose for the sake of trying to win.

Arrivals

Two days ago, our very close family friends welcomed the arrival of their first daughter / grand-daughter / niece in Melbourne. The long wait was over and the parents' hard work well rewarded. She looks like the perfect bundle. We got to see photos of each family member taking their turn to carry the baby girl.  The photos perfectly captured the joy and excitement that can only come with a newborn. It is a mystery of life perfectly captured in time. The baby girl is like a new niece to us and a little cousin sister to our kids. My youngest daughter is promoted from her Mei Mei (little sister) status to Cheh Cheh (big sister) although she was still somewhat confused about who gave birth. From the moment this baby was in her mother's womb she was well loved, yet the love multiplied many times over as we all see her in person. For us in Singapore, we hope to meet her in person in December.

In Singapore, there was another arrival that was much anticipated this week. Joseph Schooling flew back to sunny Singapore on Monday to share his amazing win at the Rio Olympics. He was greeted with a water canon salute when the flight landed in Changi Airport. A large crowd of  hysterical fans greeted him at the arrival gate and the arrival hall, and it was livestreamed on Facebook. The most endearing moment was probably when he and his father met and embraced. A long awaited moment in both their lives - lots of hoping, hard work and sacrifices finally bore fruits. Yet this victory is only the beginning of an amazing journey in their lives. The rest of Singapore has been hoping to catch a glimpse of Joseph as he make his rounds. This is in every way a hero's welcome home.

These moments, when people finally meet those whom they have been longing to meet, are like flash forwards to the great reception in heaven. Each soul comes with a story of anguish, sweat, pain, loneliness and sacrifice without knowing if victory is certain. Some have been swimming in hopelessness whilst others have tripped and fallen many times on their arduous race. Yet something in-built have called them to carry on to fight the good fight. With only a step to the finishing line, some have lost their limbs and sight, their dignity, their courage. They only muster one final breath to cross the line. And in that very moment the full glory of heaven is revealed to them.

They fall into the embrace of their Father who has been yearning for their arrival. He sees their brokenness and gives them new bodies. The great cloud of witnesses celebrate in jubilation as another soul has overcome. Those who shared earthly lives together runs forward to rejoice at the long awaited reconciliation. They all share in a welcome feast at the Lord's table. He anoints them with oil and gives them the crown of life. 

The glorious arrival in the house of the Lord.

Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Psalm 23:6

The Lion Roar

I woke up early this morning in anticipation of Joseph Schooling's 100m Butterfly event at the Rio Olympics. Most of Singapore was probably doing the same thing. Our little island's hope of winning its first ever gold medal. It reminded me of an old black and white picture that my late mom showed me when I was very young. It was a picture of the whole "kampung" of poor relatives sending off my mom's cousin to study in Australia on the Colombo scholarship. That man represented the hopes and dreams of his extended family, doing something that nobody else in that picture would ever dream of doing in their own lifetimes. Joseph Schooling was about to do the same for all of us in Singapore. That's why it feels like we've all won. 

The more I think about it, the more blown away I am with the victory. This wasn't in some obscure sports.  This was swimming - a hugely popular sport, dominated by a handful of western countries.  He was swimming against the very best in the world and had the pressure of Michael Phelps swimming right next to him. I was perfectly okay for him not to have won. The whole world would have understood, and Singapore would have understood. Getting into a swimming event finals was historic. Taking silver or bronze would have been a big bonus. Bringing home the gold was a confusing idea because we just haven't done it before. But Joseph was defiant. He was set to defeat the Goliaths lined up against him.

What an exciting race. Joseph finishing almost a full body length ahead of 3 swimming giants - Michael Phelps, Chas le Clos and Laszio Cseh. A new Olympics record and apparently it was the fastest time ever swam post the LZR Racer swimwear era. 50.39 seconds. A 50+ seconds that took a lifetime of handwork, pain, disappointments, frustrations and mental strength. How sweet a victory. And so for the very first time, Majulah Singapura was played in an Olympics prize giving ceremony. Surreal. 

Joseph's victory challenges our thinking about talent at so many levels. As a society, we need to work hard on broadening our definition of excellence and success. We need to make the right amount of investments to produce a talent crop that has world class ambitions. We need to hire the best coaches from anywhere in the world, whilst training local coaches to be world class. We need to stop being wishy washy about granting full exemptions from National Service for our top talents. We need to do all we can, whatever we can, to remove barriers that disadvantage our local talents, because the winning margin is in hundredth of a second. Singapore has world class mentality in so many things, they it has paid off handsomely. We need to do the same for sports and the arts.

Today the Lion's roar was resounding. 
Majulah Singapura!

If You Were There

I wasn't aware of the movie Risen until someone told me about it this week. I watched it on iTunes yesterday. It was about a Roman military tribune named Clavius, played by Joseph Fiennes, who was ordered by Pontius Pilate to keep a close watch on Jesus' crucifixion.  The Sandherins were concerned that people would spread rumours of the prophesied resurrection and threatened Pilate that it could possible cause an unrest amongst the people. Clavius was tasked to make sure that the crucifixion was completed, ensure the body was buried and the tomb was sealed and guarded by Roman soldiers.

When Jesus body was missing from the tomb, Clavius came under intense pressure to find the body. He searched amongst the many other dead bodies and also hunted down people who may have known Jesus. Eventually, he figured out where Jesus' 11 disciples were hiding. With sword in hand, he burst through the door ready to make the arrest, and finds Jesus sitting amongst the disciples. He sees Jesus wounds on His hands and side, the one that he personally instructed the soldier to inflict with a spear. At that very moment, Clavius loses his bearings. He could not reconcile what he was seeing to all that he understood about life, power, death and being a Roman warrior. 

The movie does not attempt to play up what is written for us in the Bible. In was subtle in its depiction of the risen Christ and the disciples' encounter with Him. Instead the movie attempts to put its audience into Clavius' shoes; what would you do if you witness all this? What would you believe? How would you reconcile your life with what you now know? Could everything or anything remain the same for you? 

The life, death and the resurrection of Jesus was something that happened at a point in history so none of us today gets a chance to witness the Bible account first hand. But if you did, the question is whether you would believe. 

Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” ~ John 20:29

Happy 51 Singapore

In just a few days, Singapore turns 51. The SG50 throwbacks have been popping up on Facebook reminding me that one whole year has just zipped by. Those of us who teamed up to organise the SG50 events in our ex-firm are now mostly working in different companies. Many friends have or will be relocating back to their home countries. Some of the younger ex-colleagues, who I must say are still very young, are planning to go back to school. How exciting to be so young. Settling down, first-time parents, starting their own businesses, everyone is standing in a different spot. So much has changed, it feels like 5 years have passed. This past year is like a helium balloon which I accidentally let loose. It drifts aways quickly, leaving me to wonder how it slip out of my hand. But at the same time, I savor the moment as I watch the balloon dance its way into the stratosphere.

This year, I am forming new National Day memories at my new workplace. Our team is having a mini SG51 celebration on Monday morning. Red and white decorations have been up since last week to rouse the patriotic Singa roar in anyone who passes by. With a mystery prize for the best decoration to spur them on, some teams have really gotten quite creative. With a shoestring budget to work on, I suspect the decorations will be far more creative than the mystery prize! The power of the unknown. In the midst of the team's busyness, it is great to see everyone taking time to bring cheer to each other's lives. But more than that, it is a wonderful gesture to give thanks for this tiny yet vibrant island nation and to wish her well in the coming year. 51 years is not a long time as a nation, but this country has progressed with lightning speed. Singapore definitely hasn't been standing on the spot. Certainly something worth celebrating and thanking God for.

I love this country with every growing year. When I first moved here 20 years ago, I wasn't entirely sure if I would choose to be here in the long term. Singapore seemed too small, too limited by what it doesn't have. But anyone that comes to stay, even for a short time, will soon form a different view. Its soul and community grow on you. The old Singapore facade that blends into the heart-thumping cosmopolitan reminds you that the city is ever changing, and you are part of that exciting change. Last Thursday morning, when I was walking my son to school, I heard "Home", the National Day Parade theme song from 1998, played on the PA system. I inevitable thought about how "this is my home truly". I married here. I had my kids here. I made many close friends and have a fulfilling career here. I went back to church here. And now I am dealing with cancer here. And I know that I am home when an adversity doesn't make me feel like there is some other place I ought to be. My ups and my downs are here, this is home.

Happy 51 Singapore!
Majulah Singapura

My Kiwi Moment

I have been having quite a bit of organic kiwifruits recently. Full of vitamin C to bolster my low immunity. And the food hack on peeling kiwis without liquifying them in the process has given me a new found confidence with this sawdust-like covered egg-shape fruit. I discovered 2 boxes at the back of the fridge this evening and peeled them for an after-dinner kiwi platter for the family. I am the official fruit chef in the family and it is my parenthood mission to leave a fruit-eating legacy to my kids. As there wasn't enough space on the plate for all the kiwis, I ate 2 of them. The rest fitted the plate perfectly; cling-wrapped and back into the fridge they went. A sense of satisfaction came over me for getting to these kiwis before they start to crawl around in my fridge. 

About 15 minutes after, I felt them crawling in my stomach instead. And then a sharp pain. Excruciating. Never before. I suddenly realised that after having had 3 cycles of chemo, my stomach lining has weakened and the acid for the kiwis was having a chomp at it. I reached for the bottle of Galvaston antacid because there was literally a fire in my belly. I needed those Galvaston firemen in the TV commercial to extinguish it immediately. It helped only momentarily. The churning pain came back very soon. I went to the toilet 3 times in an hour because it needed to be purged from my system from both ends. I shall not get into the rest of the details.

The oncologist did explain to me about weaker linings of the digestive system before I started the treatment. And I was prescribed with special mouthwash and medication to prevent ulcers from forming. Up until now I have been using the mouthwash sparingly and taking the medication in week 1 of each cycle with no ulcer issues. But I have overlooked the fact that I should also adjust my diet over the course of my treatment as the linings weaken. Lesson learnt. 

Those killer green kiwis.



"...Swallow it down (what a jagged little pill)
It feels so good (swimming in your stomach)
Wait until the dust settles
You live you learn, You love you learn
You cry you learn, You lose you learn
You bleed you learn, You scream you learn"

~ You Learn, Alanis Morissette

Wobbliness

I have been up since 4am. Insomnia from the last 2 days of chemo. At 11pm yesterday, my wife asked me why I hadn't slept even though I looked like I was straining to keep my eyes opened. I explained that I wanted to be completely knocked out to avoid waking up at 3am. The outcomes of sleeping at midnight clearly didn't work out as planned. I decided to watch a YouTube series that I have been following recently. They were about people from the Jewish faith accepting Jesus as their Messiah after they discovered that the New Testament is a fulfilment of the Old Testament, and that Jesus and his disciples were Jewish, not Catholics.

At 5am my second son was woken up by the storm and decided to come join me in my state of awakeness. This last few days I have been thinking about the episode from the Bible about Peter trying to walk on water in the midst of a storm. So what a better time to watch a YouTube video of that scene from a movie with my son. We did just that. He said he knows the story, and wasn't entirely impressed with the video maybe because most of your standard comic superheroes could probably do the same and without eventually sinking like Peter.

I, on the other hand, was moved even though I have seen it before, and appreciate the stuff that the X-Men can do on water or otherwise. I am not a superhero and I see a Peter in all of us - someone who was at times impulsive, in the moment, letting his heart race ahead of his mind. In the middle of a storm at sea, sometime between 3am to 6 am, when he saw Jesus walking on water towards the boat where he and the rest of the disciples were fearing for their lives, this happened:

“Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.” “Come,” he said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?” Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.” (Matthew 14:28-32)

And this was one of the many times in his journey with Jesus which he fell short. He fell asleep when Jesus was praying in the Garden of Gethsemane just before Jesus was arrested, and then he cut the ear off a servant of the high priest during the arrest. He later denied knowing Jesus 3 times before the rooster crowed just as Jesus had predicted. In despair, he went back to being a fisherman.

Walking on water is wobbly business. I talked to a couple of friends about this in the last few days and they agree. But there is a beautiful ending to Peter's story if we read on in the New Testament. In deep despair and doubt, Jesus meets us every time. And at some point hopefully, like Peter, our little faith grows to displace our destabilising doubts. 

I strive to look beyond the wobbly waters and enjoy the thrill of getting out of the boat to walk on water.



Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God ~ Hebrews 12: 1- 2

Resilience

After last week's hiccup, I was back at the doctors this morning for another blood test. The white blood count wasn't the best but good enough for me to progress with the chemo so we went ahead with cycle 3. During the wait, I met a friend who was also there for chemo. I bumped into him several weeks back but we didn't have much time to talk then.

He talked me through his journey since March when he discovered the condition. He felt a relatively small lump around the throat but his scans later revealed a massive tumour. It was diagnosed as an aggressive form of cancer. He had to be scheduled for an immediate operation followed by daily doses of radiotherapy for close to a month. The radiotherapy was combined with some chemo sessions. Needless to say it was a harrowing time for him and his family.

The operation and treatment were effective in clearing the tumour but given the type of cancer he had his oncologist recommended between 4 to 6 months of additional chemo using different drugs. His treatment involves monthly cycles, each consisting 3 weekly sessions, followed by rest on week 4. The drugs in the first session is very strong; it messed him up pretty good the first time he had it. 

What amazed me was his resilience. He talked about his experience calmly, and laughed in disbelieve that he managed to get through some of those ugly days. He spoke about having to give up his current role to take up a smaller one when he is well enough to return to work. He was in good spirit despite having to still feed himself liquid food through a tube that goes into his nose. He told me that he was so thankful to have many friends in church praying alongside him.

In his suffering, my friend's experience testifies to the human spirit. It testifies to the hope that we have in God. It sets the record straight - that there can be better days even when it feels like it is asking too much to believe it. It reminds me that God can turn your ugly situation into a story of hope for someone else.

I thank God for the conversation with him, as with everyone who has reached out to me with their personal stories. This conversation was well worth the couple of days delay in my treatment.

"... but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us" ~ Romans 5:3‭-‬5 

Losing Perspective

This past week was a toughie. The rashes were unrelenting. My neck got better but the rashes spread down my entire back and chest. Red patches that gave me goose pimples when I saw them, which then made the condition look even worse. This was something straight out of the Dermatologist Visual Guide to Dermatological Conditions. I kept wondering how it got so bad. I had the same conditional several years back triggered by what I think was a food allergy. I stopped consuming milk related products because I am lactose intolerant, and stayed away from my list of suspicions.

I went for a blood test on Wednesday in preparation for the chemo scheduled for the next day. But in my heart I knew that the outcomes were not going to be great. The doctor's response later that day was cryptic but not unexpected. He said he had a few questions for me when we meet the next day. So yes I still had to make that trip to the doctor even though I knew I wasn't going to be doing the chemo and feeling rather uncomfortable. Health conditions are never convenient.

The itch kept me up Wednesday night so I felt tired as I made my was to the oncologist on Thursday morning. My sister who took time off from work this week accompanied me. The doctor thought maybe I have chicken pox and referred me to a dermatologist. The horrors of chicken pox in my teenage years were forever carved into my mind, this wasn't it.  Two hours later I met up with the dermatologist. He concluded that it was viral, not a drug or food allergy. He gave me drugs to treat the symptoms but I had to wait for the virus to run its course. Things that happen to you when your immunity is low.

I slept a lot the last two day. I didn't even feel like going out for a nice lunch to cheer up, which is unprecedented. I wasn't a happy bunny nor a praise bunny. I avoided thanking God for yet another day, over what? Over some rashes, it is unbelievable. Overwhelmed, I lost perspective. I did ask "God surely it is easy for you to take this really bad itch away?" Humility, patience, obedience, a sense of perspective aren't things I can learn in a lab. I have to learn it like how everyone else learns it. I learn it like how Jesus walked it. I have to let this run its course too.


But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body ~ 2 Corinthians 4:7-10

Bad Itch

This week I felt like I was about to come down with a cold. The younger kids were yet again unwell and there is also a bug going around in the work place. And then I also developed rashes or hives, I don't know which it is, around the neck and shoulders. At one point I was scratching so badly that I thought of the story of Job from the Bible when he was afflicted with "painful sores from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head." And then it says that "Job took a piece of broken pottery and scraped himself with it as he sat among the ashes". My allergy and condition pales in comparison so I am not drawing any parallels. Mine were not sores and they were not painful and no I certainly did not resort to broken pottery. But like the beginning of the book of Job, I did have that moment of as-if-it-wasn't-bad-enough; compounding chemo and wearing a facemask most of the time with a cold and a bad itch!

Job had a painful story. He was a godly man who suddenly lost all his children, wealth and health in the blink of an eye and he spends more than 40 chapters trying to figure out why all this happened. His struggle reminds us that even if we are feeling incredibly lousy or itchy, we are not the only ones who have felt that way. It reminds us that pain, suffering and discomforts are part of our humanity, and Job was at the extreme end of that spectrum. And from Job's story we have the benefit of knowing that God gives us the space to download our emotions and to be brutally honest about how we feel. He does not expect us to play happy bunny, not to Him and not to the people around us. And for the same reason, the rest of the Bible records the stories of many more weepers, strugglers and doubters. 

Towards the end of the book of Job, it says that the "LORD blessed the latter part of Job's life more than the first." But ironically when God himself took the form of a man to pay the price of our sin, His suffering ended in death. Unlike Job, Jesus didn't regain a great fortune or live 140 years. When Job questioned God about his misery, he didn't know that God had already planned out His own suffering. Job prophetically declared:

You asked, 'Who is this that obscures my counsel without knowledge?' Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know. You said, 'Listen now, and I will speak; I will question you, and you shall answer me.' My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you.

Job didn't yet know of Jesus or that His death would defeat death itself, but he prophetically declared:

"I know that you can do all things; no plan of yours can be thwarted."

I resorted to WhatsApp to broadcast my sorry state to a group of friends and family who have committed to pray for me. I managed to sleep well that night and didn't wake up the next morning with a runny nose or sore throat. My itch is still there but not as bad, certainly not as bad as Job got it.


The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases
His mercies never come to an end
They are new every morning
Great is Your faithfulness
Lamentations 2:22-23

Moonbeams

My daughter's birthday is coming up. I ordered her cake a couple of day back and felt rather proud of myself for remembering to indicate the collection date as the day before her birthday. The only problem was that this cake is for the celebration at her kindergarten which is before her actual birthday.  I only figured this out 2 days after I placed the order. I am not sure what triggered my realisation. Perhaps there are real benefits from staring mindlessly at the ceiling.

We were much more organised with the gift packs for her classmates, well my wife was. Organic gummy bears, stickers, Oreos, mini games, a smiley face notepad, fancy pencil and duckie erasers. Gender neutral to save on the confusion of having 2 sets of gift packs.  All ordered online ahead of time. To avoid the mayhem of mispacking, the younger kids were given directions to arrange each set of gifts on the living room floor in a grid. Each set quality assured before they went into the packs.

Organised or disorganised, we busy ourselves to mark these yearly milestones in our lives. Another year of childhood shared wonderfully with us but also another year of wonderful childhood almost over. She is growing up far too quickly, learning to be in charge around her 2 elder brothers. Even at this young age, I catch glimpses of the woman she will become. By God's grace, I hope to be around for her and for myself. 

Lyrics sung in a different context - how do you hold a moonbeam in your hands? I have to learn not to struggle with such thoughts. I have to learn to live in the moment and pay close attention to how bright it shines. 

The Jabs

A couple of days after each chemo treatment, I have some booster jabs to get through. It is meant to stimulate the growth of white blood cells and strengthen my immunity.  There is a more expensive alternative of doing a single jab, but I decided on the more cost efficient option. That means jabs on 5 consecutive days; 4 times more the fun. I do the jabs first thing in the morning so that I don't have to think about it the rest of the day or forget to administer it. Not quite sure which is worse. 

The instruction is to first remove the cap from the syringe carefully so that I don't accidentally poke my fingers because of reflex action. Then place the syringe with the loosen cap in a safe place near me. Pick a spot about 2 fingers width away from either side of my belly button and clean it with an alcohol swab. That is probably the best part, the cool belly. Then comes the jab. 

The drug needs to be injected into fatty tissues below the skin. The spot recommended by the nurse was my belly, probably because she sensed that I wasn't short of belly fat. The needle is relatively short and fine which reduces the anguish. Also no risk of puncturing any of my internal organs. I then have to decide whether I ought to gently stab myself with the syringe or whether I should place the syringe on my belly, try to puncture my skin and slowly nudge the needle in. 

You would think that with a needle so fine and my belly so soft, the needle would go right in as soon as I place the needle on my belly. Like sticking a fork into jello. That may happen, but more often than not when I place the needle on my belly, it hurts and the needle refuses to break the skin. At which point I would exclaim "Oh come on!". Sometimes it takes me 3 to 4 times before I either find a more comfortable spot or shake the jello-like sensation from my hand to finally press the needle firmly against my belly. Getting the needle in is a big relief, but injection the drug feels quite nasty too. 

For those few moments in the morning, I feel like I live in slow motion. As soon as the syringe automatically retract into its case, time speeds up again and I see everything in full colour.


Po: How did I do?
Master Shifu: There is now a level zero
~ Kung Fu Panda

Comforting Reassurance

Today I got one of those comforting reassurances from God that He is walking with me. Not because I am any more special that anyone else, but because He has a special word for all of us.

I attended an earlier Sunday church service this morning because a friend had asked for the elders in that service to pray for me. I was accompanied by my eldest son and my sister who is visiting me from Hong Kong. The rest of my family was at home as my daughter was down with a bug she caught from her first week back at kindie. 

In the Methodist church liturgy, we start off the service with a Call to Worship, which is a responsive reading based on a Bible passage. This morning's passage was from the book of Psalms. I read responsively but had not taken notice of where specifically the verses were from until we got towards the end of the reading:  

How sweet are your words to my taste, 

sweeter than honey to my mouth! ~Psalm 119:103

This is the same verse I ended my last blogpost with. I googled. And there are 31,173 verses in the Bible. Still it could all just be a pure coincidence right? 

I choose not to believe that it is a mere coincidence because I have had similar experiences in the past. It's happened once in a dream, another time when I was in a small town in Tasmania. Recently, prior to being diagnosed with lymphoma, I uttered words of reassurance whilst doing a morning run which is most out of character for me - I am usually completely out of breath and concentration when I run, and would not outwardly verbalise my thoughts, definitely not 3 times. The reassurance that God loves me to prepare me for the impending journey. Enough of such experiences to know that it is not my imagination.  And there are many friends who share similar experiences in their walk with God, especially when they've been through a difficult path.

Special reminders to encourage me along the journey from the One who molded me. Yet they are not too different from my reminders to my kids that I love them and that they are special to me. What's else should we expect from a living and loving God?

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, 

neither angels nor demons,

neither the present nor the future,

nor any powers, 

neither height nor depth, 

nor anything else in all creation, 

will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

~ Romans 8:38-39

Honey Time

A slight setback. I was meant to start on Cycle 2 of the treatment on Monday. I went for a blood test on the Saturday before and the results indicate that my white blood count had not recovered to a reasonable level just yet. The doctor's orders were to rest until Thursday to repeat the blood test before he decides on whether I can commence with Cycle 2.  Eye roll, eye roll, eye roll. I was feeling pretty normal and took it for granted that my blood count would recover according to schedule. That was the sort of person I am - I follow schedules. 

But it is what it is and I am doing whatever I can to eat more to hopefully boost the blood count. I am not even sure if it is scientific, but it is all I can do now aside from playing the waiting game. Me needing to remind myself to eat more would have been quite a laugh just a couple of months back. Eating has now become methodical rather than a form of  release or escapism. I have resorted to exclamations of "Ooo, this is really good for me" as I munch on steam organic vegetables and fish. I embellished, my niece just handed me a slice of delicious mango swiss-roll which I did not refuse.

Patience and more food is a kind prescription. But I am usually uncomfortable with waiting time. Perhaps I have to get rid of this notion. Waiting time sounds like a holding area for something better to arrive or something to be accomplished. Whatever time given is a sweet gift especially thinking, pondering and resting time. My doctor had recently suggested that I take some Manuka Honey to improve my immunity. Perhaps waiting time should be called Honey Time instead; time taken to transform natural nectar to something sweeter for the soul. Think Honey Time will catch on? 

How sweet are your words to my taste, 
sweeter than honey to my mouth! ~Psalm 119:103

But Because You Say So

We were in Bali just over a year ago. My Facebook account prompted me recently to share the throwback. There was a picture of me sitting on a tube with my daughter gently flowing down Lazy River in Kuta's Waterbom park. My daugther looked hesitant about being on the tube but I was smiling, I think trying to convince her that it was going to be fun. I noticed that I looked weightier and it was then that I said to myself "This was before cancer". There wasn't any indication of cancer in that photo and I felt a slight disappointment with the present. I found myself wondering what was that one thing that I did or did not do in that one year that triggered this. I had told myself never to ask what or why, but this caught me by surprise.

June to June has really been a year of significant changes for me. Lots of people were leaving my previous firm due to a reorganisation. I too left in December last year and started on a new job in January which I am enjoying. My eldest son got through a tough exam year and is now in s junior college that he wasn't sure he would gain entry to. I've reduced my involvement in his studies as he is now at an age where he has to take charge of his future. I got more serious about losing some weight, reducing my carbo intake and bought a rowing machine which I have been using regularly. I was acutely aware that I was entering mid-life and wanted to make positive changes to my life. I even started a blog to record these events in my life. And then lymphoma.

I am back in Bali this week. It is a last minute trip. The last 2 weeks at work with the appropriate precautions had worked out well for me. It is the last week of the school holidays and I desperately need some time away with the family whilst I am still well enough to travel. So I applied for annual leave and booked the flights. No roaming around the island on this trip, it is just meant to be a relaxing beach holiday with no crowds and lots of fresh sea air and calming Balinese gardens.

This morning I woke up early for a run on the beach. Not sure why I've never done this before. The breeze was lovely, and sound of the waves calming. I managed to run for 45 minutes up and down the beach. As I was heading back towards the direction of the hotel, I saw the silloutte of a traditional Ballinese boat against the crepuscular rays. I was immediately reminded of a passage I recently read from the Gospel of Luke 5:

4 When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, "Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch." 5 Simon answered, "Master, we've worked hard all night and haven't caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets."
6 When they had done so, they caught such a large number of fish that their nets began to break. 7 So they signalled to their partners in the other boat to come and help them, and they came and filled both boats so full that they began to sink.

It reminded me that when there is the slightest sense of disappointment, I must learn to keep my chin up and carry on not because of my own strength "but because you say so".

Normalcy

A good friend WhatsApp-ed me this morning "U haven't written your blog for 8 days". I don't have a target but it hadn't struck me that it's been 8 days. I've been back at work the last 2 weeks, and doing my best to get onto the rowing machine when I get home. I make it sound like I spend hours rowing but in reality it takes between 30-40 minutes, an hour if I count the post-rowing shower time. Once I am done with dinner and I've spent some time with the kids, I'll try to get to bed early. Return to normalcy.

But in all honesty, the new normal requires me to be a bit more regimental. I should have sufficient intake of proteins, I should not forget to take my supplements,  I should drink about 3 litres of water a day. I stepped up my efforts after the mid-cycle blood test indicated that my blood count was low. Normal didn't mean I should do what I prefer doing. It meant that if I wanted to go about feeling normal, I will have to have more fish and less pasta. I should not skip my twice a day protein supplement even though it tastes awful, especially when I mix it into beetroot juice and the TCM supplement. Normal just isn't doing what you normally feel like doing anymore.

But also the new normal ought to be more than the daily grind. Everyday is a gift isn't it? There ought to be a greater sense of mission. I do that a lot better at work than outside of work unfortunately. It is not about having a bucket list, ticking off boxes. I am not about to jump out of a plane or do a bungy. I hate the free falling sensation. I would certainly want to clock in more travels, but that isn't quite it either. 

Time for some introspection - what going to make the new normal extraordinary? Not every thought crystalizes by the end of a blogpost. Maybe that's what's held me back from blogging over the last 8 days. Maybe the full 6 months of treatment will be the catharsis that enlightens me.