Dedicated to all who are bravely battling cancer.
His blurry vision looked over at the clock: 5:00 a.m. If it was darkest before the dawn, it couldn’t get much darker than it was right now. He rubbed his eyes and allowed his discomfort to wash over him.
Sleep had not come last night but depression sat by his bedside, holding his frail hand. A concoction of poison had taken him to the lip of death’s canyon. In 100 years, chemotherapy would be viewed as primitive as leeches. But right now, at this moment, it was the best friend he had.
Bryan Gates was fighting cancer. And he was losing.
He shuffled around in his bed, trying to get comfortable. Comfort was a concept that was foreign to him at the moment. The irony of it all was that not long ago, he had come into the city triumphantly. He was man at the top of his career. He made a lot of money and enjoyed every moment with his young family. Bryan Gates could do no wrong. And then the phone rang. “You have cancer,” the doctor said flatly.
Those three words exploded his world into 1,000 pieces.
Now, he had lost his hair and his immune system. Chemo had destroyed so much in his life. He couldn’t even give his sons the hugs they so craved due to fear of illness. But he kept fighting. If he had had any more strength, he would have worried how his illness affected his family. His wife had been so strong. Like an ant, she was carrying six times her weight in responsibilities. He, on the other hand, barely had the strength to get out of bed.
It was Friday, and he was descending deeper and deeper into Hell. Nausea cradled him in her arms, giving him an occasional death hug. He wished he could eat — he missed food. But his body would have thrown up anything he tried to put down his throat. His arm looked like a skeleton’s.
Damn cancer. Damn death.
He looked out the window. Darkness consumed the world. And his thoughts.
“Why have you forsaken me, Lord?” he cried out into the night. Self pity joined depression at sat by his bedside.
But he hadn’t been forsaken.
The chemo, for all its brutality, had begun to work. The stone of disease was slowly being rolled away. Scans would start to show the tumor shrinking.
Bryan slept through the night Saturday night. The affects of chemo began to release their grip on his mind. The fog lifted and the first rays of hope began to pierce the darkness.
Hope. The most powerful medicine of all. Hope. The force that would get him out of his bed and bring him back to life. Hope. Sunday was his resurrection day.
He would win his battle with his cancer and rise again. Like a tree waking from its winter slumber, life began to once again blossom within him.
Bryan Gates’ survived Good Friday. And he never missed a sunrise for the rest of his time on earth.
Thanks for this share, I too had to face this enemy! Hope w/God will heal:-)
I also have cancer but God is my healer and I am a believing
He is more than enough
I’ve lost numerous friends and relatives to cancer, none were ever declared in remission or cured. My mother had Hodgkin’s disease. She had surgery and weeks of chemo and was finally declared healed. The bitter irony is healing the cancer destroyed her immune system. She lost to pneumonia less than a month later. Chemo is a difficult choice, but it’s the best choice so far.
When fighting cancer are any disease you have to find your own ray of sunshine and hope. The road is not easy and it is easier to give in than fight, but fight you must.
Thanks for the story. I watched my husband and he did survive cancer, but with a cost of losing the ability to enjoy food and lived on a feeding tube.
I have been fighting Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma for 26 years–there is no cure. However I have always had hope and have not forgotten to live:) Jesus takes every step of this journey with me. I also have awakened in the dark of night worried and afraid, but there is “Joy in the morning.” I will have hope until the end, hope’s name is Jesus.
All of you that are fighting that battle. May God go with you .