When the Cancer Path Leads to the Unknown

Cancer is a scary and evil beast! Many of us have been impacted or have supported someone that is battling the disease. The majority have had to say goodbye to a loved one because of cancer. My aunt and mother-in-law both passed away from the reoccurrence of breast cancer. I have had dozens of friends that have battled this terrible disease.

Prior to my wife having her cancer diagnosis, I tried to ignore thoughts or worry about the disease. In my faulty logic I thought if I didn’t acknowledge cancer it might not impact the lives of my wife or children. In my feeble thinking, if I didn’t think about it, then perhaps it would ignore us. Unfortunately, cancer doesn’t obey our desires.

As a nineteen-year-old my wife had melanoma skin cancer. We had just started dating, and to be honest I knew little about melanoma at that time. Lyn’s melanoma was removed, and she was checked every year for thirty years with no issues. Every once in a while, I would look at Lyn’s scar and think, “Well, we had our turn at cancer and beat it!”

So, between my sound logic of “I will not acknowledge cancer” and my comprehensive statistical analysis I was pretty sure it wasn’t our family that was going to get cancer again. However, cancer doesn’t care about statistics, logic, or our desires. Cancer happens, and it instantly redirects lives to an unknown path.

When there is a cancer diagnosis, it forges a new lifepath where those that are impacted do not know how long they will have to endure, where it will end, or who our support team will be.

I wrote earlier that as I entered the hospital room the second day, Lyn greeted me with a happy face and a smile because she was now beginning to swallow and breath through her nose. There was relief written on her face. Before the neurologist came into the hospital room, Lyn and I had a good talk. While we hoped and prayed it would not be cancer, we needed to be prepared for potential bad news. Lyn agreed. I reminded her that no matter what the doctor said, we were a team, and we would make this journey together.

As the neurologist came into the room she explained that Lyn had multiple spots in the brain that she suspected were cancer. It was a numbing moment for the both of us. The doctor went on to explain that the cancer likely did not start in the brain, but probably began someplace else in the body. Therefore, the doctor ordered an immediate CT scan to find the source. The scan revealed that Lyn’s cancer came from the right lung. A subsequent needle biopsy in the lung revealed it was indeed melanoma cancer.

Lyn’s cancer journey began.

Most, (including us) were in shock. At age 49 Lyn was diagnosed with stage-four metastatic lung to brain melanoma cancer. She also needed to start therapy for a stroke that left her unable to speak, or clearly write, so her journey looked daunting.

The doctor expressed sympathy and asked if we had any questions. We had no questions because our minds were simply attempting to process what was happening. We went from a normal, routine, managed and well charted-out life – to chaos.

It was shocking to us that the day prior to her stroke (May 13) was as perfect as it could be. It was my birthday and Lyn made the day very special with festivities, and the family surrounding us. We had now turned the page on what we considered to be a “normal” day and had to somehow try and adapt to a new normal that was suddenly thrust upon us.

After the doctor left the room, Lyn and I immediately turned to what we knew best …prayer. Lyn and I clung to our faith. I told her we would make it, and we were a team! In all honesty we had amazing peace even after receiving this jolt from the doctor.

We quickly realized that we had zero control over cancer, which in some ways can be terrifying, and in other ways liberating. For us, the deciding factor between terrifying, or liberating was the trust we had in God. While we certainly have had our share of life-trauma, sadness, and tragedy, God had always gotten us through these rough times. Granted, this was far more serious than anything we had ever faced, but where else would we turn for peace? For us, if we were not going to turn to our faith during this trial, when would we? If we were not going to turn to our faith during this battle, our faith ultimately meant nothing.

As day two was winding down we knew our routine and life-path had taken an abrupt turn. However, in a way, getting to this point was a bit of a relief because we now had a starting point. The route to the destination was not yet clear, but we were able focus on our next day.

Taking each day as it presented itself was now our strategy. Lyn was on a path where the destination was unknown, but we had each other, our family, our friends, and most importantly our faith.