The Song of...the Lamb

The soloist was gray and balding, years of living clearly seen in his facial lines. The lady soloist two numbers before this was also nearing retirement, gray and heavy-set. Many of the members of the choral group are about the same age – retired or nearing retirement. There are some who are younger, but generally, these are older choristers here. They wore sky blue robes with a white cross on the stole… nothing fancy, no fashion icon or anywhere near it, nothing “cool”here. But why am I sobbing like crazy?

I am here in the General Conference auditorium, attending the National Christian Choir concert – an afternoon “Service of Worship Through Music.” That’s what the printed bulletin says. As we found our seats, the opening notes of the song, “Above All,” floated softly. I can sense a refinement: the piano accompaniment are beautiful and lilting, timed perfectly, the sounds well- controlled. The drums are well modulated, the crescendos slowly building up and then burst into joy and full strength. By the time the lady soloist sang, I was already a mess.

I do not know about you but this kind of music just hits me right between the eyes. I had just finished listening to a youth concert at our church minutes ago. They were really good, they sang the right notes, great tones, expression, but I experienced something here that I did not at the youth concert. I tried to analyze (in the middle of sniffing and stifling my sobs) what was missing.

Ah, I think I got it: these people here have experienced life: loss of a loved one, illness in the family, challenges with children, rejection, failure, poverty – their faces show that they must have been in the crucible one time or another in their lives. And these people also experienced living through all these pain by the grace of God. Yes! That’s it! They experienced how it is to hold on to the Lord every moment of their lives, and they are here not to perform, but to worship. When it is a person’s heart and not just his voice that is singing, it makes all the difference. His every breath is a prayer, a petition, a praise, to the Almighty.

I now understand a little bit of what “the song of Moses and the Lamb” would be like. I am sure it will be something we have never heard of before, the saints singing their song of experience, of all the hurt and pain they have gone through while waiting for the Lord. They will also be singing how the Lamb had wrapped His arms of love around them and led them until they reached heaven’s streets. It will be a majestic, emotion-laden performance, and I am so looking forward to hearing it!

I now have a new respect and admiration for our older singers – age sweetens their music….

The gray and balding soloist stood up and sang one of my favorite songs, “Praise the Lord.”

“When you’re up against a struggle that shatters all your dreams, And your hopes have been truly crushed by Satan’s manifested schemes, And you feel the urge within you to submit to earthly fears, Don’t let the faith you’re standing in seem to disappear.”

“Praise the Lord, He will work through all who praise Him, Praise the Lord! For our God inhabits praise, Praise the Lord, For the chains that seem to bind you, serve only to remind you, that they are powerless behind you, if you praise Him!” (by Mike Hudson & Brown Bannister)

I reached for my purse and searched for another pack of tissue….

Photos from Niagara Trip

Untitled Album

Autumn Escapades

Autumn is a lovely season! The temperature is just right, the flowers are still in bloom, and most of all, the change in the foliage colors is just stunning! I take in this experience like a hungry child, and so I try to take long drives in the fall just to enjoy the amazing colors that Mother Nature generously scatters all over the northeastern United States.

Driving to Michigan early in the month, around a bend in the Pennsylvania turnpike, we were suddenly met by a very beautiful display of autumn colors: various shades of red, orange, yellow and green. I clapped my hands in delight at seeing such perfect mountainscape bathed in the afternoon sun. After this sight, on the way up and coming back, I was on a lookout for similar sceneries but nothing else can match that gorgeous sight.

We also decided to visit Lady Liberty just to say hi to her. Actually, Cynthia, my brother-in-law’s wife is visiting us, so we thought she should pay her respects to one of the most noble and popular ladies of modern civilization. We went on a weekday, so the tourist rush was not that bad, but I cannot say the same of the New York city traffic. We couldn’t seem to find Ground Zero in the maze of traffic and one-way streets and what’s more, got pulled over by the NYPD traffic cop – for turning right on red! Well, at least, we can say we saw New York city, even if it was only from our car. There was nowhere to park, even just to find a restroom! Country bumpkins that we are, we drove away without even stepping on terra firma of this famous city.

Another lady we visited just this weekend was named Lelawala. Have you heard of her?

No? How come? I thought she was famous!

Maybe her birthplace might ring a bell: Niagara.

Okay, here is the story: Lelawala was a beautiful Indian princess(aren’t they all are?) who live upriver from Niagara. She got betrothed (don’t ask me how) to a guy chosen by the chief (yes, same plot), someone older, richer but mean (you can see where this is leading, but hold on, there might be something different here). On the day of the wedding, Lelawala was so heartsick, she ran away (Cynthia said she’ll run away too if she were in L’s place – the groom was old and ugly and fierce looking). Lelawala could not bear the shame that she has brought to her family, so she took a canoe, and fled. The story (really, the myth) says that she heard the call of the thunder gods, and followed their voices. She paddled her canoe until she reached the rapids of the Niagara, and plunged into the thundering roar of the waterfalls. People say they sometimes see her standing on a rock, thinly veiled by the mists of the roaring waters, hands stretched upward as in worship. They claim she protects those who respect the beauty and strength of this amazing wonder of nature, and is the reason for the survival of some of those who plunged into the water below.

Hey, nice story, isn’t it? The boats that ferry tourists from the US side is called “Maid of the Mist,” while those from the Canada side are called “Lelawala.” Now you know!

Beautiful, amazing, powerful – I am out of vocabulary for this wonderful handiwork of the Lord. See the photos, otherwise, give this place a visit –it will be worth your while. And say hi to Lelawala for me. Happy Autumn!

People and Places

My Journal

I was not a journal keeper at all. I started a diary several times in the past but faltered after a few days – you know, the usual kind: daily for the first week, two or three entries the next week, then will drift down to once a week, and then will totally disappear. Many of those notebooks were recycled into something else, or tossed away still looking new. Not until I was diagnosed with cancer and faced with the shortness of life that I thought about journaling seriously.

The one I have now is a cross of a diary and a prayer journal. Sometimes it is creative, often I just write down what I feel or whatever is the issue of the moment. It is a record of what happened during my cancer journey. They say that writing releases a person’s creative energy which is beneficial, even imperative, to someone in crisis situation like me. Author Nuala O’Falloain writes, “Everyone should write so as to understand themselves. When you write down something about yourself, you kind of clarify in yourself what kind of person you are.” In addition, it is also a tool to confirm –or argue-- about a hospital bill, which comes painfully often.

All these, and the thought that my family would need something of me when I depart, spurred me on writing down my thoughts. Now I thoroughly enjoy doing it. Some are profound (I think!), some are funny, others are about my pain and despair, some are just brief enumeration of what happened.

Journaling allows me to have mental exercise, makes me feel like I am accomplishing something, gives me joy, relieves stress. And reading them from time to time gives me a better perspective – kind of like standing on a crossroad, looking at the unknown over the horizon, and turning to look back at the road I emerged from.

Let me share some of my entries, in the hope that this will nudge you into getting serious with your idea of keeping a journal:

May 20, 2007: “I have to lock the bathroom door when I take my turban off. My husband and children had not seen me bald yet. I am okay with this, I was ready, but well, I’d like to spare them the agony of seeing me without hair. It looks like they feel worse about this alopecia. Anyway, I know this is temporary, that when it grows back, my hair will be better. Besides, it is fun to try on wigs, scarves, hats and see which style fit me. I feel like I am a little girl playing dress-up. Thank You, Lord, for the hope that this will soon pass and will give way to new things, new hair, new life in You which is richer, nobler, more fulfilling!”

August 14, 2007: “Labs done today at 10:00 AM, they drew 12 tubes of blood; bone marrow aspiration at 1:00 PM with conscious sedation. Mindy did a good job, it was painless. Had to be on NPO for 24 hours – it was tough. I ate a little bit after I was out of sedation but threw up shortly afterwards. Good thing Jem was quick – nothing spilled. Reached home without any other incident.”

December 24, 2007: “Today I called Dr. Huff about the rash that developed on my left chest, armpits and inner upper arm – she said they were shingles. Terror! They look so ugly! I started on an antiviral today and took some pain medicine that knocked me down.”

Dec 27, 2007, in pencil: “Father, I am feeling awful from all the pain from these shingles. I do not want to take antipyretics nor Benadryl because they make me drowsy and inactive. Please, Father, if it is thy will, please take this illness from me today. The pain is like fire burning – the pain and itchiness keeps me awake and unable to focus on anything else. O Lord, please grant me the strength to live today…“

Have fun with your journal!

Summer musings

Ah, summer!

What can I say? The days are the prettiest: sun shining bright, green trees and grasses, the begonias in their prettiest red and yellow, clear, blue skies, birds happily chirping overhead, cool breeze blowing as I sit out on the deck, reading my favorite book or writing on my journal while munching on freshly toasted almonds. This is THE life!

But the best part of all these is coming across this (I think!) most profound of all quotes: “Deep summer is when laziness finds respectability.” (Author and lecturer Sam Keen, Readers’ Digest, Aug 08) Bingo! I just found the perfect justification for not doing any blogs, nor projects for two months.

Right now I have successfully conquered three rooms in my house. In the dining room, where this computer is, I have a basket on my right bulging with magazines, brochures and old newspapers that have articles I like- to be clipped, sorted and filed – well, sometime in the future. On a chair to my left is another pile of my old journals – references for future writing projects, Costco discount vouchers (I am jobless, remember?), and other things that have similar degree of importance. In my daughter’s bed, there is an already high pile of newspapers (I need bigger space to spread it out, see?) that are several months old. I just cannot get myself to throw them away. Something’s telling me that I will need some articles there in the future. My bedside table is loaded with books, the kind that will lullaby me to sleep after reading two sentences, my small desk is also full of good things to read, crafts guide, etc,etc…you get the picture.

For weeks, I feel guilty every time I pass by these sacred areas. And because my so-called precious documents are in almost every room of the house, I feel guilty often.

Needless to say, the August issue of the Readers’ Digest picked me out of my feeling of uselessness. I am in good company. Here is the best, though: “There is never enough time to do all the nothing you want.” (Calvin from “The Authoritative Calvin and Hobbes,” RD, Aug 08). Doing nothing is part of summer! Yay!

I hope you are enjoying your summer!

Whew!

Here is a summary of my one year of treatment after diagnosis. Pretty short, huh? This little table does not include the wave of emotions that washed me from time to time, the sleepless nights, the pain, the anxiety. But I made it this far - as long as there is life, there is hope! As my friend from Cebu puts it, "Payts lang dyud, bay!"(Fight on, friend!)



Date Name of test Procedure Medications Notes Doctor

July 27, 2006	X-rays of all bones, Bone scan, Bone marrow biopsy, CAT scan, heart scan, Pulmonary Function Test, EKG, Several Blood Tests, 24-hour urine test	INTRAMEDULLARY NAILING		Had physical therapy until Dec 06	Dr Kristi Lynn Weber Orthopedic Surgeon
Aug - Sep 2006	Radiation, R femur.	Radiation, R femur. 10 doses.			Joseph M Herman, Radiation Oncologist
Sep-2006 to Feb	Monthly blood tests for kidney, liver, blood functions, test for kappa light chain in the blood, 24-hour urine test (electrophoresis)	CHEMOTHERAPY	Thalidomide 100 mg od; Dexamethasone 40 mg od. Zometa infusion once a month	Had tremors, moon face; numbness and tingling of both extremeties	Dr Zeshaan Rasheed Medical Oncologist
Mar - Apr 28, ‘07		Washout period in preparation for high dose chemotherapy			Rasheed/Huff
April 9, 10, 2007	X-rays of all bones, Bone scan, Bone marrow biopsy, CAT scan, heart scan, Pulmonary Function Test, EKG, Several Blood Tests, 24-hour urine test	Preparation for Phase 2 Clinical Trial for High dose Cytoxan and Rituximab for Multiple Myeloma			Dr Carol Ann Huff Medical Oncologist
April 29 - Present	Bone Marrow biopsy every 3 months; Blood and Urine exams every month for one year (up to Apr 08)	High dose chemotherapy, begun on April 29 for 20 days.	Cytoxan infusion Rituxan infusion once/wk for 4 weeks on Months 1, 3, 6, 9 & 12 (Aug 23-Sep 13 is 3rd month)	Blood counts gone really low, had transfusion: whole blood - 2 units, and 2 units of platelets.	Dr Carol Ann Huff Medical Oncologist

Flashback: October 10, 2006

Going through the letters I sent these past 2 years, I decided to post this one. I was on an oral chemo regimen consisting of a steroid and thalidomide during this time - it lasted 6 or 7 months. Just hoping that this letter may lift your spirits up...
_________________________________

October 10, 2006

Dear Family and Friends,

I should have written this letter a long time ago, but it seems that time passes by so quickly that it is gone before I realize it. I have lots of alibi, though, such as treatments, meal planning, long distance calls, appointments to be made, feeling fatigued, etc. I know I owe you a note or two, you dear people who have lifted me up in the wings of prayer from day one of this ordeal. You knocked heaven’s doors in my behalf, and many of you do not even know me – I am fortunate to be united with you in the worldwide circle of brotherhood that is our church. I do not know how else to thank you, except to say, “Thank You,” from the bottom of my heart.

I am on the second month of my chemotherapy, and I praise the Lord for the minimal side effects that I encountered so far. I am able to do things at home, able to think well, walk around using my cane, and go on outings. I am considering going back to work soon, but at the same time thinking that a year off from work and allowing my body to heal would be great, too, isn’t it?

After this second month of chemo, I will be evaluated for presence of proteins in my blood and plasma, and then further treatments will be recommended. From what I heard from my doctors, it looks like they will continue this regimen for a couple more months – until December 06, and then – the difficult part will begin. I will spare you the details of that right now, I have not processed that part yet. Maybe I will just tell you that my multiple myeloma is the aggressive type, with good short term response to medication, but responds very poorly in terms of long term survival.

In addition to fighting this battle, a couple of weeks ago I got news from home that my younger brother, an engineer in a ship was in an accident and had craniotomy in Brazil. Last week, I received news that he died. I feel a little bit of what Job must have felt. His body will be in Iloilo City, Philippines on the Oct 12, and they have planned the interment on Oct 22.

It is only when we are in the center of these events that we see life as it really is, and I am sure the Lord gives such experiences to us for a purpose. One great thing that has happened to my family from this experience is that we draw ourselves close to the Lord, for where else should we turn? I am now a very teachable student – Bible verses come to life and “burns” me when I read them. Ministry of Healing is my other textbook – oh, I hope you will not wait for sickness before you read these precious words– they lift me and my family up every day.

The hymns, the songs speak the prayer of my heart, and they take on a different meaning to me. I pray to the Lord in these songs, and they are such a blessing. These faith-filled songs drives sorrows, sadness, heaviness of heart away. I also draw courage from the fact that others went through the same road as I am traveling today.

Right now, I am doing fine. I am taking this fight one day at a time. I walk for thirty minutes two times a day, eat lots of salads and raw food as possible, go to bed on time (this has been my battle ever since), and be outdoors as much as possible, and relax. I had been advised to live a full life, enjoy each day as I can – I will take this. And you should, too. Maybe we will meet in some of our travels in the future.

One of the great things I’m so blessed with at this time is hearing the prayers of the brethren on my behalf, over the phone, or personally – what prayers! These people are friends of the Lord, period. I have no doubt that heaven hears their prayers, and I am so blessed to have heard them personally.

Well, one friend sent me the refrain of this song, “God is too wise to be mistaken, God is too good to be unkind. If you cannot see His plan, if you cannot trace His hand, if you do not understand, trust His heart.” For now, I will just have to trust His heart.

My husband had been a rock of support to us all. He had learned a great deal about domestic duties since the time I was hospitalized, but I know he is fervently praying for a reliever from his kitchen rotation.

Again, thank you for thinking of me. Please help me thank and praise the Lord for trusting me enough to send me and my family these situations so that we can be servants He desires us to be. Please take care of yourselves, too.

Sincerely yours,

Ana

Marker: Year Two

June 26, 2008.

I was ready early today. At 7:26 AM, I turned on the ignition of my minivan –it had served me well this past two years. Today is the last day that I will be receiving Rituxan, a monoclonal antibody that my doctors prescribed for me. This is a 4-hour intravenous infusion, and I am taking it at Johns Hopkins’ Outpatient Oncology unit as I had for the past year.

I memorized my 28-mile route to Baltimore by heart: Interstate 95 North, Exit 53, right at Conway, left at Light Street, right at Pratt, left at Broadway. Go straight on Broadway, crossing Lombard, E Baltimore, Fairmount, Fayette and Orleans streets, turn right into Weiberg Building main entrance and into the basement parking lot. The building houses the Sidney Kimmel Comprehensive Cancer Center of Johns Hopkins Hospital.

I had been into this for a long time I can also memorize the preliminary procedures: Take the elevator to first floor, scan orange ID card, take computer printout of schedule. Go to phlebotomy, scan orange ID again (computer says, “Thank You, Ana F. Please be seated.”). Read magazines, listen to Ipod, stare at people or twiddle fingers while waiting for name to be called. Enter Phlebotomy room once name is called, weight is taken, sit in one of the chairs. ID verification (“Please tell me your name and date of birth…”), give computer printout of schedule to phlebotomist. Vital signs taken, noted down on printout. Phlebotomist double checks the orders, prepares the tubes, prepares the labels and needles. “Roll up your sleeves,” or “Take off your jacket,” phlebotomist says. He or she ties tourniquet, finds a good vein, slap arm lightly (will the vein really come out when it is hit this way, I wonder?). He/she alcohol swabs the selected site, sticks the needle (Ouch!) (double Ouch! If he/she cannot get the vein at first shot), withdraws blood specimen then labels the tubes in my presence.

Ah, well…. I had agreed to participate in this phase 2 clinical trial to join in the search for the elusive cure for multiple myeloma. The protocol consist of infusion of a high dose chemotherapy (Cytoxan) infused 4 days in a row, and Rituxan given once a week for 4 weeks, every three months for one year. Today is the last day, so a quick look back is needed. It would be a pity if this whitewater experience is not recorded – no one else will be able to help me recall them when I am old and forgetful!

So, every three months, before I was given Rituxan infusions, I was evaluated on three areas: hematology & blood chemistries, 24-hour urine, and bone marrow aspiration for biopsy. The lab results will determine whether I will receive Rituxan. There is always a little bit of drama whenever I am due to submit those three specimen: around twenty tubes of blood each between 5-10 cc each, 3 liters of urine to be collected for 24 hours, and (sigh!) bone marrow aspiration.

On this last month’s evaluation and before I started this last series, my oncologist told me that my counts were “stable,” and had not increased, yet had not been completely rid of, either. The hematology and blood chemistries were normal, the 24 hr urine does not show any protein in them, the free light chain assay shows a 13.78 kappa/lambda ratio (the normal should be .26 to 1.65) and the bone marrow examination shows “5-10% plasma cells.” The diagnosis from my bone marrow biopsy was: Residual Plasma Cell Myeloma.

The pathological fracture on my right femur is still not healed, though. As I have mentioned in a previous post, the IM (intramedullary) rod they placed last July 2006 broke (as X-ray of April 2007 indicated.) Therefore, the fracture had twisted, causing pain and swelling on the surrounding tissues, and length discrepancy (one and a half inches) on my right leg. The diagnosis: Pathological Fracture Non-Union, Right Femur, Subtrochanteric, secondary (due) to Multiple Myeloma.

I feel fine, though. Like my colleague diagnosed with prostate cancer but feels fine said, “I am only sick on paper.”

And what is next? No, I am not done with my trips to Hopkins in Baltimore yet. I will still have periodic evaluations, and then decisions will be made according to the results. I guess hospital trips like this has become a part of my life. Right now there are several clinical trials being done in different centers in the US and Europe for multiple myeloma, and researchers say that there are drugs and combinations that hold promise.

Maybe I shall take a different route just to mark off another phase in my treatments. For the meantime, the journey had been runs and rapids for me. Right now I am on a ‘run,’ gliding in calm, peaceful, slow current. However, I have learned that on this journey there is no place for whining nor complacency. Up ahead and around the next bend could be whitewater, yet I need not be scared. The same Power that had been my Guide through the storms will still be with me.

Meanwhile, I will glide along and enjoy this ride.

“What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.” -Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)

Twenty Seven Years and Counting

June 3, 2008.

Today is our 27^th wedding anniversary.

My husband and I were wed at Bacolod Adventist Center in Taculing, Bacolod City on Sunday, June 3, 1981, at 6:00 in the morning. Really, no kidding, it was at 6:00 AM. It was (and probably still is) common in the Philippines to have weddings that early, or even earlier, say, 5:30 in the morning.

As I think about it now, our participants and others who were involved might have cursed us (mostly me) under their breaths for weeks afterwards for making them wake up that early. The bridegroom said he did not sleep even one bit – I had some, but was awake at 4:00 AM. My inspiration (or crazy idea, depending on who’s talking) was that I had a friend who was wed in the same church, at 5:30 AM, and I thought it was totally romantic!!!

So, at 6:00 AM, there we were. The sun was just peeping out as our officiating minister said, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today before God and in the presence of this company …..” He was the conservative sort, kind of traditional, but we liked his crisp and short yet packed words and phrases. And we preferred traditional: we wanted our vows to say that our commitment to each other was (and is) total and permanent. We also wanted to invoke God’s help as we fulfill that commitment.

By the time Pastor Geslani asked the famous question, “And now, solemnly promising before God, and in the presence of these witnesses, … will you love her, comfort her, honor her, cherish her, in sickness and in health, in prosperity or in adversity……as long as you both shall live?...,” the sun had climbed higher and its rays were now warm, but soft.

The early morning sun, the silence in the church except for the sparrows chirping, the lyrical cadence of the minister’s strong voice as he prayed for our new home, “The Lord’s Prayer” sang by Inday Londres in her powerful soprano– this was a scene that will always be stored in my happy-memory file!

Many things went wrong during that day: the photographer failed to take pictures of some participants, the little cute pillow for the Bible and covenant was nowhere to be found, some of the food did not turn out as expected, some of our relatives were complaining (ah, this is another story…). And as I look at the pictures now, I think my face was too shiny, and in addition, we all looked so very promdi (a modern Filipino slang meaning “from the province,” or country bumpkins)! And yes we were! That wedding was nowhere near the exquisite picture-book kind you’ll see in today’s wedding magazines.

My brain is on selective memory mode, though, so it did (does) not bother us too much. And what’s more, I think we got the most important thing right that day: God blessed that new home.

Quince de Mayo

“It is the link from the present to the past that gives us a spirit to address the future.”

(Midge Costanza 1928- )

I know, I know – the Mexican holiday is Cinco de Mayo, celebrating their victory over some foreign aggressors. This is not it. Nor is this an oblique reference to a Quincianera, a traditional Mexican coming-of-age celebration when a girl reaches fifteen years of age.

May the fifteenth was my late father’s birthday. This is a special day which brings back memories of my childhood, and my father.

First, this is the one day in a year that Tatay (Father) went to church. Nope, he did not go to church on Easter or Lent, not on Christmas. The new year may come and go but the change did not compel him to set foot on any church. He seemed to believe that the blessings he received on May 15 is enough to cover him for the whole year.

Second, my father, Isidro, attended mass only at the Catholic church in the next town which celebrates the feast of its patron saint, San Isidro Labrador, the patron saint of farmers. No other church was acceptable.

This Catholic town celebrates with a fiesta on this day, always starting with mass, and ending with revelry in the evening, usually a ball/dance for the public. The celebration always starts a couple of days before with all kinds of events, but the climax was always held on May 15^th. The town plaza would be filled with all kinds of stalls: food, religious souvenirs, clothes, toys, bingo stalls, fun games.

We were always looking forward to this day. Father would hire a jeepney so his children will not have to fight for seats on the local transportation which were always overflowing on this day. There were myself the eldest, then Pepe, Otay, Cena and Alma. We are all approximately 2 years apart, so you can imagine how much fun we had, and how much work was required to get us ready and presentable throughout the day. We will be washed, cleaned, and ready in our Sunday best early in the morning, sometimes as early as 5:30 in the morning. Nanay (Mother) did not come to any of these outings, as I recall. She probably relished her time to be without little children afoot even for just one day in a year.

I cannot remember the 20 km trip, nor the mass, but I have good memories of breakfast. Right after the mass, we would find a food stall that serves breakfast. Tatay would order food for us, and we all will have sunny-side-ups and rice. We were fascinated by how the cook cracked and dropped the eggs onto a sizzling pan, sprinkled salt on them, and kept the yolk golden and in the center. This was a special treat for us who always have kalo-kalo (fried rice from leftovers) and pinamalhan (fish) for breakfast every day.

After breakfast, father would let us wander around the other stalls. Only the food stalls and the those that sell religious souvenirs were open early, but we were happy just to see so many people in one place. We would each get some souvenirs, usually little bookmarks or stamps from the religious stalls.

Later, father would take us to his favorite cousin’s house, where preparation for a feast is being held. The smell of meat and sweat, and the smiles and nods of our relatives are what I remember most. After the introductions and updates (“This is Ana, the eldest, and currently in fourth grade,”…) we would amuse ourselves with our relatives’ special treasures: a caged snake, bird pets, a conch we took turns blowing.

We had second degree cousins our age, but seeing them only once a year does not help much. My two youngest sisters, Cena and Alma, remembered that they met some ‘rude’ girls on the road to our uncle’s house. They exchanged words, and almost got into hand to hand combat with them, only to find out later that they were relatives.

As we grew older, Tatay’s faithfulness to San Isidro Labrador became inconsistent. He probably had fallout with his cousins, or with his patron saint, who knows. When we had families of our own, we decided to have family reunions every May 15 in honor of my father’s birthday, and kept it quite festive.

I have few memories together with my father, he seemed to keep his distance from us as we grew older. Perhaps he did not know how to express his love, he was quite reticent and did not talk much. However, I have never once doubted that my father loved me very much.

What has this to do with multiple myeloma, you ask? Just that the idea of dying makes me dig deep into my memories, so that when I am gone, my family and friends will have my memory of Quince de Mayo in their hands.

Happy Father’s Day 2008 to you all. To those whose fathers are still around, I hope that you will make special memories together this day.

“The greatest gift I ever had came from God. I call him Dad.” Unknown

May Sunshine

It is amazing that it is already the second week of May. Indeed time waits for no one!

The days have warmed up now, and I am proud to say that I am keeping up with my exercises. Today I walked around Lake Artemesia where there is a paved trail around the lake. The light green leaves of the trees glimmered in the sunshine, the birds were out and singing, the lake was peaceful with a few water lilies starting to bloom.

My leg seems to be stronger since I started walking again – I have no choice but to walk because the restrooms are placed way at the center of the park, about a mile from the parking lot! Of course I enjoy the exercise and the time alone in such a beautiful scenery.
A lot of things happened since I was diagnosed with multiple myeloma. What I thought was just a pulled muscle turned out to be something real big.

One day in April 2006, a colleague was quite down because of the divorce process that she had to go through. Going back and forth to the courts, the burden of figuring out financial issues, the trauma of being ridiculed and belittled by her ex-husband was taking a toll on her. I thought that she deserved a listening ear and offered to give her a little back massage to ease her tension. The chair had a tall back, and I in my high heels just leaned over and started giving her a massage. As I pressed her shoulders, I felt something pop at my right thigh, and a little pain. I brushed it aside, thinking that it will just go away after a while.

No, it did not go away. I pretended that it was not there. I continued doing my walks, hikes, treadmill, & stretches. I even remembered that I went to a park with some friends. We did exercises on some stops: uneven bars, sit-ups, etc. I followed someone on the monkey bars and jumped to dismount. (I dread thinking of the pain if my femur broke then.)

The pain did not go away. I visited the chiropractor and asked some people to give me a massage on my right leg. The chiropractor took an X-ray, but did not see anything wrong in it. He showed it to me, too, but of course, I did not see any problem either (how would I know?).

But months passed, and the pain was still there. It had become more intense, and I definitely told myself that I should go see a doctor – after our college nursing class reunion in California in July. At the reunion, my friends gave me clear instructions: see a doctor as soon as you return.

And that’s what I did. The day after returned I went to see a family practitioner. He did some tests, took an X-ray and asked me to return the following day for an ultrasound. The next day it was so painful, and I have to hang on to the rails to go down the stairs. It was not possible to put any weight on my right leg. Getting on the car was very painful and difficult. When we reached the office, I asked for a wheelchair.

The technician told me to sit on the ultrasound table, and later on, to lie down on the table. I tried, but the pain was so severe. She helped me up the ultrasound table. Eeeeeeew! I screamed in pain. She did the ultrasound quickly, and told me that there was no bleeding, in fact, there was nothing wrong with my right leg from what data they had so far. At this point, I realized I will have to go through more tests, and asked to be taken to an emergency room.

So, for the first time in my life, I was in an EMS vehicle, with 2 burly guys, taken to the Emergency Room of Laurel Medical Center. I had another X-ray at the ER. “They told you that there is no fracture? “ he asked, as he spouted out unprintable expletives. Later on, the ER doctor told me that there was something suspicious in the X-ray. He offered to find a good doctor that takes care of these things (I can tell it was something serious). He later told me there was a place for me at John Hopkins Hospital, and that I will be sent there.

Well, everything, as they say, is history. I was transported to Johns Hopkins Hospital at 3:30 AM After a series of tests, the diagnosis was multiple myeloma, or cancer of the bone marrow. I spent around 3 hrs at the outpatient clinic, and around 14 hours in the emergency room.

Two years later, as I hobble towards the park’s restroom, I cannot help but compare my life then and now. I may be handicapped (and jobless) now, but I have learned so many new things in the past two years: I got a fresh perspective of life; to worry over something only if it has a bearing on eternity. I am more relaxed and contented (easier to live with?), and learned to enjoy the simpler things of life: clap at the antics of the barn swallow as it flits around me, pay attention to the calling sound of the red-winged blackbird, examine and admire the exquisite design of the water lilies, inhale and enjoy the cool breeze by the lake.

Oh I hope that you too will slow down, take a closer look at the miracles around you, and enjoy them today!

Cherry Blossoms

March 30, 2008

Shari, my daughter, and I just returned from the National Cherry Blossom Festival. This is a spring celebration in Washington, DC commemorating the March 27, 1912 gift to the city of Japanese cherry trees from the mayor of Tokyo. Thousands of cherry trees line the tidal basin, and more on some parts of the National mall.

This is the weekend when the blossoms peaked, and I thought I just have to see it again before wind or rain blow the blooms off. Five years ago we went, but skipped going the succeeding years – we don’t actually appreciate sights, memorials, important places when they are close by. This time, in line with my ‘live life to the fullest’ credo, I decided to go, even by myself, if no one will take me. Shari was so good to break her hermit routine to accompany me on this special afternoon.

The weather was overcast, and a little too cold for me, but it was alright. Traffic was as expected – horrendous! . Even before we turned to Pennsylvania Avenue, traffic slowed down to a crawl. We had to coast in bumper to bumper traffic and was led (by the signs) to the parking lot, which is of course, the farthest from where we wanted to go. There were lots of people in the National Mall. Each year, it is estimated that more than 700,000 people visit Washington to see the cherry blossoms. We finally decided to take pictures from the car, and find parking somewhere. We had to walk some ways – maybe a mile – to take a couple of pictures. My right leg is still weak and cannot withstand long walks.

But the cherry blossoms are worth the wait, the traffic, the time, the walk, the pain. The sight is magical: once a year in the spring, instead of green leaves, all the cherry trees show off a beautiful blush of pink flowers. On some areas, it is just tree trunks, limbs, and pink canopies. Where they line water’s edge is when the scenery is even more glorious. Here is God showing one of nature’s splendor – and I just don’t want to miss it. Heaven will have more beautiful display than this, I am sure, but for now, I just want to see it, take a mental picture, and let this beautiful sight be forever etched in my memory.

"No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him" 1 Cor 2: 9

“Lord, this is already beautiful – I cannot wait to see what You have prepared for me.”

Family Matters

Is it almost the end of March already? My, how fast time flies – whether we are busy or doing nothing, time indeed waits for no one.
My husband and I spent about three weeks in the Philippines. We visited Cebu, our home for about 6 years in the ‘80’s. So many things have changed, but we enjoyed seeing our friends again, and visiting places that we frequented while living there. The highlight of our visit was spending some time with family, and staying at beautiful Plantation Bay, a world-class beach resort on the island of Mactan. Richard, my brother-in-law took us there for sightseeing one afternoon, and we are hooked. I had a good excuse: I was still hurting from shingles, and need a restful environment. J
We stayed a couple of days at Plantation Bay, enjoyed the swimming lagoons, the sunrise and sunsets, the fresh air, the lots and lots of sunshine. I enjoyed the quiet in the early morning hours – there is nothing more peaceful than sunrise by the water’s edge.
Let us just not talk about prices because it may sour my blog, okay? They told me there are several other beautiful beach resorts dotted along the Mactan coast, and of course, they all come with a price.
We met my sisters and their families, even for just a few hours. They are all busy in their jobs, and Cebu traffic is something you should avoid, especially that our visit fell on Sinulog celebrations. There are festivities even in small towns – what can I say? We as a people just love fiestas, and woe to you who are on the road when the parade is underway, on the only main thoroughfare!
While in Cebu, we bought a guitar and 4 ukeleles for my young niece and nephews in Negros. They were excited to learn how to play the ukelele, I enjoyed our 15-minute daily lessons. Seeing a child so eager to learn is invigorating. Before I left, we sang our song to our gathered family after dinner. Never mind that most of them could not hit the song right, but Raffy, Xenia Laine, Spencer, and John knew how to strum their ukuleles, and had fun showing off their new skill.
Nothing could warm hearts like family. The few days I spent with mine last January was so refreshing to me. I thank God for family – when I think about it deeply, this is one of the greatest gift that He has given me.

Family Matters

Backtrack: Sunrise from Skyline Drive

As I journey through my 'runs and rapids,' I have to learn to slow down and savor each experience and enjoy every moment of life. I am not so great at it yet, but at times when I do slow down, I am amazed at what I see and experience. As one writer puts it: when seen closely, even the simplest event like breathing, thinking, writing - are miracles.

One day, I and three friends decided to watch the sunrise from Skyline Drive of Shenandoah National Park. We had to wake up at 4:00 AM so as to get there before Mr. Sun comes up. We drove fast, and was caught by the Virginia traffic patrol, but that is another story! We parked at a lookout point even if it was not the highest for fear of missing the whole show. Below is an excerpt from my journal dated November 2, 2007:

"It was exhilarating to be up there, seeing the world wake up, watching as the sun glide up ever so slowly, almost imperceptibly, and slowly blankets the cool, dark world with light and warmth. The bright orange glow in the east became brighter in just minutes, perhaps seconds. Pretty soon, a bright orange ball shows up, and before your eyes has fully scanned the horizon, the earth is filled with the sun's golden rays. It is amazing how the whole scenery changes with the light: the autumn colors of the trees looking more alive as the light increased in intensity.

After a little while the birds were out - we can hear their happy songs - the deers were rummaging around looking for breakfast, eagles soar out and begin their morning dance, some in pairs, just enjoying and celebrating life.

Thank you, Lord of all creation, for this special experience!"

My words will never be able to express all that I have seen. The four of us agreed that our cameras will never do justice to the beauty, wonder and majesty of what we had seen, heard, and experienced, but here are our feeble attempts to capture Sunrise from Skyline Drive. It is an everyday event, yet, it is nothing short of a miracle.

A Band of light is the first to appear!

The orange ball is slowly coming out.

Slowly coming out, imperceptible to those in a hurry.

Good morning sunshine! A deer basking in the early morning sun.

Just like us!

Christmas 07 Update

CHRISTMAS 2007
Dear Family & Friends,

Merry Christmas! As I look back at how 2007 played out for me and my family, my thoughts inevitably take me to loved ones and friends who had been faithfully praying for us!
I do not have enough words to thank you for your prayers for my healing and courage for me and my family. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts. Your care, concern, practical help, and above all, your love had been our rock of support in those difficult days. God had indeed used you to show us His goodness and compassion.

Our family is doing fine, we have our bumps and bruises along life’s highway, but the Lord is good, He has “crowned us with love and compassion.” Howard is doing fine, having his own aches and pains and occasional senior moments, I guess part of growing old. Shari decided to join the work force and now serves the General Conference Accounting office. Allan is a junior Clinical Laboratory Science major at Southern Adventist University. The children are young adults now. Where did the years go?

I had high dose chemotherapy last April to mid-May, and was house-bound until June. I had everything the books predicted: alopecia, nausea, hyperemesis, neutropenia, anemia, etc. Praise God that my blood count quickly bounced back, and the side effects were not that bad. A nurse practitioner even commented, “Compared to others, this is a breeze for you.”

Just when everything seemed to be going well, we were shocked to know that the IM rod they placed on my fractured femur broke – nobody knows why. The fracture had not healed due to cancer, chemo and radiation, and because the rod broke, the bones had twisted, irritating the tissues around it, resulting to pain and swelling. Recently, the doctor told me it will be a more extensive surgery to remove and replace the rod. My R leg is now about an inch shorter, and the burden of my weight is now on my L leg, and it is starting to complain. We have not yet decided if I should go for surgery. My doctors think that we have to care for the myeloma first.

But there is good news: at the latest visit, my doctor told me that there are no ‘bad’ cells found in my bone marrow, and the myeloma markers in my blood had significantly gone down. She told me not ‘to freak out yet,’ she calls what I have “residual myeloma,” and will have to be monitored regularly. I am still being treated with a second chemo drug until mid-2008.
In this journey, I learned a lot of amazing things-: that life is temporary, a little dot in eternity and it is way better to prepare for eternity instead fighting for life in this old world. I have learned to let go and allow God to teach me lessons in trust, faith, love, generosity, compassion for others, walking with God.

I rest in the comfort of these texts: “But blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. He will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.” (Jer. 7:7-8).

I have learned to slow down, enjoy and savor every moment, to live my life to its fullest. For this reason, Howard and I went with our church group to Central Philippines last August for a mission trip and had been greatly blessed. At another time, Jemima, Linda, Nimfa and I drove to Skyline Drive of Shenandoah National Park at 4:30 in the morning to catch the sunrise and see the world come alive in their best autumn colors. I use my best clothes everyday, watch snowflakes falling without feeling guilty, take walks when my leg is not too painful. Howard and I drove on one of the 4 ‘romantic road trips’ advertised in our local paper – we took the one that led to National Wildlife Refuge at the Maryland Eastern Shore. We had a great time, but it was soooo cold! Well, yes – the suggestion was to go on a summer day, not late autumn!

As one cancer survivor puts it, for her, life after cancer was kind of like the film Wizard of Oz when Dorothy and her dog Toto landed in Munchkinland: when she opened the door, the film turned into full color. Life had turned into full color for me, after cancer, when smacked by the reality of the shortness of life, the only great thing left to do is to enjoy every moment of it. I am learning to let go of the past, not to worry of the future, and resolve to celebrate today. I thank the Lord for each breath, each moment, each act of love. I learned that when I look closely, simple things like these are actually miracles.

For Christmas, we wish for you a life in full color, not only for the holiday but also for the coming year, and for the years to come. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!