What did I do when I was told on May 24, 2000, that my husband had pancreatic cancer and only had six months to a year to live? I was in shock for a while. I can remember walking down the halls of the hospital numb. My mind was blank. All I could remember thinking is the word CANCER. CANCER. How can that be? That only happens to others. Certainly not to someone I know and love. This is not really happening. They made a mistake. After reality hit, I cried. I begged God to heal him. When I realized it was God's will to take him home to glory, to the place that my husband preached and taught about, all the Scripture I memorized came flooding back to my mind. (It is so important to read your Bible on a daily basis and memorize Scripture. You can't claim the promises if you don't know what they are.)
What did I do? I had a choice to make. All the notes I took when I was sitting under preaching and teaching of the word of God were either going to be real to me or I was going to close my ears to any further teaching and preaching of the word of God and turn my back on God. I chose to trust Him. I didn't ask WHY - I just clung to Proverbs 3:5-6. It was easier to trust Him then to lean on my own understanding. What did I do? I cherished the times that I could touch, see, and hear my husband while he was still alive. As the months went on and my husband got worse, I watched him glory in his infirmities so the power of Christ would rest upon him. (II Cor. 12:9). There would be days when he would be in so much pain, nearly going out of his mind. On those days, he would snap at the kids but quickly tell them he was so sorry and asked for foregiveness. You see, the Judgment Seat of Christ was very real to my husband. He knew he would give an account for everything he did in his body, both good and bad. What did I do? I claimed the promise that His grace is sufficient. (II Cor. 12:9)
On June 1, 2000, my husband was admitted to the hospital for surgery. A procedure called the Whipple Procedure where part of the pancreas, duodenum, stomach, and all of the gallbladder were removed. A biopsy of the marginal area where the tumor was removed was sent to Washington, D. C. Two weeks later the biopsy came back stating that there were microscopic cancer cells which meant that there was still more cancer in his body. He was sent to an oncologist who gave him a protocol of five weeks of intensive radiation and chemo therapy. The outcome of this procedure would be the loss of a kidney on top of what he already had removed surgically, his quality of remaining life would be none, and he might have as much as a 30% chance of survival after the treatment. Without this treatment, the oncologist told my husband he would be dead by December. My husband knew where he was going when he died, but he also knew he would have to leave his family behind for a while. My husband was a family man. God first, family second, church last. My husband chose not to go that route, and we started looking for other ways of possible cure. (I want to say we did have people tell us that, "if you have been given your death sentence by God, just take it and quit trying to get out of it.") We thought about that and decided that if God would provide the means for other treatment, we would go that route. He provided all the money that was needed to get my husband to a treatment center in Mexico where he underwent low doses of chemo and radiation. He was then sent to an oncologist in Texas where he was given blood tests and cat scans. He was told his cancer was in remission. Every two months he had to undergo blood tests and cat scans and everytime the results came back negative even though my husband was still having severe pain. Finally, in January, 2001, the pain management doctor told him he would not be able to supply him with pain medicine anymore because he (the pain doctor) didn't have a diagnosis and recommended my husband go back to the surgeon because he believed his pain was surgery related.
On January 18, 2001, my husband was admitted to the hospital where intensive testing was done again,and the cat scan that had been done in the beginning of the month was read more closely. This time they found that another mass was on the remaining pancreas. By this time, my husband's system was shutting down. Nothing would pass through his body which was causing more pain. Another oncologist was called in and this oncologist told him he had three to six months left. He told him don't try anymore chemo or radiation because it wouldn't do him any good. He was discharged from the hospital on the 20th of January with a recommendation to get Hospice involved, mainly for pain management. Hospice came on Tuesday, January 23, and took complete control of the care of my husband. They did a wonderful job of making sure he was kept pain free as much as possible. Thursday night, January 25, my husband got out of bed and raided the refrigerator. Just like him. He knew he was going home and wanted to eat everything he could get his hands on to make up for lost time. What a guy! Friday morning, January 26, he looked into the kitchen and said, "Who is that man standing there?" I knew he was going home soon. Friday afternoon, he fell into a deep sleep and never woke up again. He took his last breath on Sunday, the 28th of January. At 7:15 p.m., my husband was standing before his Saviour. The One he preached about. The One he told others about. My husband was no longer in pain.
I share this with you to let you know that others have gone through the terrible pain of losing their spouse, but because of God's abundant grace, comfort, and mercy, are able to go on with the life God chose to give them.
A sister in Christ,
Christian Widow
What did I do? I had a choice to make. All the notes I took when I was sitting under preaching and teaching of the word of God were either going to be real to me or I was going to close my ears to any further teaching and preaching of the word of God and turn my back on God. I chose to trust Him. I didn't ask WHY - I just clung to Proverbs 3:5-6. It was easier to trust Him then to lean on my own understanding. What did I do? I cherished the times that I could touch, see, and hear my husband while he was still alive. As the months went on and my husband got worse, I watched him glory in his infirmities so the power of Christ would rest upon him. (II Cor. 12:9). There would be days when he would be in so much pain, nearly going out of his mind. On those days, he would snap at the kids but quickly tell them he was so sorry and asked for foregiveness. You see, the Judgment Seat of Christ was very real to my husband. He knew he would give an account for everything he did in his body, both good and bad. What did I do? I claimed the promise that His grace is sufficient. (II Cor. 12:9)
On June 1, 2000, my husband was admitted to the hospital for surgery. A procedure called the Whipple Procedure where part of the pancreas, duodenum, stomach, and all of the gallbladder were removed. A biopsy of the marginal area where the tumor was removed was sent to Washington, D. C. Two weeks later the biopsy came back stating that there were microscopic cancer cells which meant that there was still more cancer in his body. He was sent to an oncologist who gave him a protocol of five weeks of intensive radiation and chemo therapy. The outcome of this procedure would be the loss of a kidney on top of what he already had removed surgically, his quality of remaining life would be none, and he might have as much as a 30% chance of survival after the treatment. Without this treatment, the oncologist told my husband he would be dead by December. My husband knew where he was going when he died, but he also knew he would have to leave his family behind for a while. My husband was a family man. God first, family second, church last. My husband chose not to go that route, and we started looking for other ways of possible cure. (I want to say we did have people tell us that, "if you have been given your death sentence by God, just take it and quit trying to get out of it.") We thought about that and decided that if God would provide the means for other treatment, we would go that route. He provided all the money that was needed to get my husband to a treatment center in Mexico where he underwent low doses of chemo and radiation. He was then sent to an oncologist in Texas where he was given blood tests and cat scans. He was told his cancer was in remission. Every two months he had to undergo blood tests and cat scans and everytime the results came back negative even though my husband was still having severe pain. Finally, in January, 2001, the pain management doctor told him he would not be able to supply him with pain medicine anymore because he (the pain doctor) didn't have a diagnosis and recommended my husband go back to the surgeon because he believed his pain was surgery related.
On January 18, 2001, my husband was admitted to the hospital where intensive testing was done again,and the cat scan that had been done in the beginning of the month was read more closely. This time they found that another mass was on the remaining pancreas. By this time, my husband's system was shutting down. Nothing would pass through his body which was causing more pain. Another oncologist was called in and this oncologist told him he had three to six months left. He told him don't try anymore chemo or radiation because it wouldn't do him any good. He was discharged from the hospital on the 20th of January with a recommendation to get Hospice involved, mainly for pain management. Hospice came on Tuesday, January 23, and took complete control of the care of my husband. They did a wonderful job of making sure he was kept pain free as much as possible. Thursday night, January 25, my husband got out of bed and raided the refrigerator. Just like him. He knew he was going home and wanted to eat everything he could get his hands on to make up for lost time. What a guy! Friday morning, January 26, he looked into the kitchen and said, "Who is that man standing there?" I knew he was going home soon. Friday afternoon, he fell into a deep sleep and never woke up again. He took his last breath on Sunday, the 28th of January. At 7:15 p.m., my husband was standing before his Saviour. The One he preached about. The One he told others about. My husband was no longer in pain.
I share this with you to let you know that others have gone through the terrible pain of losing their spouse, but because of God's abundant grace, comfort, and mercy, are able to go on with the life God chose to give them.
A sister in Christ,
Christian Widow
