The following are excerpts of on-going email updates from 1998 to 2000 from Phil and Gina's cancer journey.
Click to read Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Parts VI and VII
When my husband was first diagnosed with cancer, I needed my friends more than ever. What follows are the updates I would send nearly every day so they would all pray for us. Our friends would forward my notes to their friends, and before you know it, people from all over the world were praying for my husband. One Sunday at our church, a man came to meet us. He said he'd just flown in from Georgia to bring us personal encouragement from his church of "10,000 intercessors" (people who pray a lot!) so we would know we were not alone. I was stunned to find out that so many cared about what was happening in our family. Knowing that 1000's were praying for us was a great comfort. These emails were my catharsis when I couldn't pray myself. I thought it might benefit you to come along on my journey for a while. Perhaps you can identify with it.
Love,
Gina
Dear, dear friend of mine!
Well, there's no easy way to break the news, but I wanted you to hear it from me first --
This past Tuesday, Phil went in for what we thought was a routine procedure to correct a swallowing problem, and they found a blockage at the bottom of his esophagus. The doctor described it as a tangerine-sized tumor. He biopsied it, and the pathology report came in yesterday afternoon. It looks like Phil has a rare form of stomach cancer. Damn!
They think the tumor is at the very top of his stomach and began to creep up into his esophagus. We won't actually know too many details until they do a CT scan. So far, it looks like surgery is certain (barring a miracle -- which we of course are intensely praying for!), but we won't know if he will need radiation or chemo until they define how deep the thing went. The good news is that Phil's blood counts are great, and his general health great as well. The initial prognosis is that this is a treatable cancer with lots of hope for complete recovery.
We're still a bit in shock and fear can be like a runaway train, but we're fighting tooth and nail to rule over fear and the awful places our minds can go. We told Jamie, Joel and Matt. They're a little scared, but not shaken too badly. I worry for Rachel a bit though. She's known something's been up since Tuesday, even though we only found out for sure what was happening on Wednesday -- her birthday. She didn't want to hear any "gory details" yesterday, so maybe just pray she won't be afraid of the truth, so we can talk. I just don't want her to hear something from someone at church who mentions the word "cancer" and blows her out of the water. She knows Phil needs surgery, but doesn't want to know any more right now. Pray for wisdom and God's timing and presence in the midst of all the fear she's trying to hide from.
Well, this is life, raining on the righteous and the unrighteous. Our faith is strong and can feel the determination of God to save us in this. It's deeply comforting. And we are surrounded by the most wonderful friends in the world -- tons of support on every level. So girlfriend, sorry to have to e-mail such bad news. It's easier right now for us, as the phone has been ringing non-stop. I'll call when I can. Thanks for your friendship and love.
Dear Friends,
For those of you who haven't heard, Phil was recently diagnosed with stomach cancer. Needless to say, it was a surprise and a shock. We thought we'd send regular updates to you all so you can join us in prayer.
As of 6/23 we got the results back from the CAT scan. It looks like the cancer is actually located more in the middle of his stomach, and it's uncertain how far up his esophagus it goes. So far, the surgeon recommends his entire stomach be removed. On Thursday of this week Phil will have an "upper GI" test done to determine where the cancer is in his esophagus. On Friday we talk to the oncologist. One other uncertainty is if it spread at all to his lymph nodes. The CAT scan showed some swelling in those areas, but the doctor won't know until surgery whether they're just inflamed, or if the cancer is there.
Despite the dismal news, Phil and I are hopeful. According to the doctor, once surgery is done recovery is slow, but sure. It gets trickier if it hit the lymph nodes. Whatever the doctor says, we are determined to stand and fight, and deeply appreciate your standing and fighting with us.
Thank you so much for your prayers and love. We will keep you up-to-date as we know more -- as much as possible!
Hey friends,
Here's two specific things to be praying for --
1) Pray against the fear of death. Phil can sometimes feel it lurking, so we want to simply expose it and refuse it. Phil was screaming at it today!
2) Pray for our consultation with the oncologist this Friday at 10:45 a.m. These little talks with the doctors are anything but faith-building. We need to keep our eyes on God regardless of what they say. What matters after all is what God says!
Thanks and bless you all.
Dear Friends in the fight:
It's been quite an emotional roller coaster for us as you can imagine, but the power of your prayers is astonishing. We both went to bed depressed last night, but this morning the air was light and hope was back in our hearts. This morning before the consultation with the oncologist we'd spoken to some of you who the Lord awakened last night to pray for us. I know many of you had us in prayer last night. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!!! Phil and I worshipped for a while before the appointment and instead of going in with dread, we went in with hope in God, and with emotionally and spiritually light hearts. We're happy to report that we have had our first victory in this war we're in.
First, the results of the upper GI indicate that the tumor has only effected the lower part of Phil's esophagus, so he gets to keep most of it. This means less traumatic abdominal surgery with a great surgeon Phil already knows right here in Natick. Surgery would still be needed to remove most of his stomach and only the lower part of his esophagus. Still not too pretty, but a small victory none-the-less!
Secondly, all reports are back in and it looks like the cancer is contained. All tests indicate his lungs, liver and kidneys are completely clear. At the moment, the stomach tumor is too close to some major veins and arteries to operate on. Therefore they want to do a combination of chemo and radiation to shrink the tumor, and then operate in September. We will likely follow this course as it unfolds, unless the Lord speaks radically clearly to not to so. At worst we have more time to fight before surgery is needed, and at best, the Lord declares He will heal Phil without the need of any drugs or doctors. The Lord knows we would need something so clear there would be no room for misunderstanding before we opted not to allow treatment. So pray for unmistakable revelation if that's how God wants to do this. Otherwise chemo and radiation treatment starts within a week or so. IF this is how it goes, we'll let you know exactly what's involved with specific prayer requests.
We can't thank you all enough for your prayers and deep love for us. We have been in love with the body of Christ for years now, but now all the more. We have never felt more loved. Thank you is too small a word. We continue to ask you to not give up, but now pray all the more with this victory in hand. Don't relent! It's not over. God is clearly in control and His heart is so stirred by your outpouring of love for us. We love you with all of our hearts.
Hey girlfriend!
Thank you for your constant notes of encouragement. Phil and I got all misty-eyed when you said you've even hounded Paul Cain with our happenings. We feel your love right through this little electronic network, and even though we can't feel a physical hug, we feel your hugs in the deepest places of our hearts -- they feel soooooo good! Yours are our favorite e-mails!
Though we're in the fight of our lives, we're also experiencing the presence of God like never before. Words to worship songs mean all the more. The other day, Phil and I got through songs like "Under the Shadow," and "Better is One Day" just fine, but when we started to sing "I Will Never Be the Same" we both lost it on the lines, "I will walk this path, I'll run this race, and I will never be the same again." We would both in a minute trade this trial for something "easier" but know in our heart of hearts that there is incredible gold to be mined here that we couldn't get anywhere else. So in it all there is a childlike trust -- it's all we can do.
Everything is so real -- no falsehoods in our family. For instance, last Wednesday after the initial meeting with the surgeon, we were emotionally pinned to the carpet, and the count of "three" about to do us in. We called Carol and the staff gathered at her house to pray for us right away. As we were leaving, I was apologizing to Jamie for having to leave them again. I think I said something like, "We need to go get some prayer because we want to be strong for you, and we're not feeling too strong right now." Jamie answered, "Yeah, I know. I'm not feeling too strong either." In that moment, I was never more proud of her because she's being so real with us. Even Rachel is asking more questions, but I suspect is still protecting her heart from the greater reality that this is life-threatening. As I ramble away right now to you, the boys are off with Phil on the father-son camp out. They were looking forward to it so much, and even though it was hard to go be with so many people, it was Phil's delight to take them. The boys have been OK. Joel seems a little scared, and Matt has been very curious, asking daily questions about all the doctor appointments. But everyone is talking, and it's been very freeing and comforting to talk deeply and genuinely.
Our anniversary was this past Thursday, and was kind of a dark day emotionally. We had the oncologist appointment still in front of us, and were fearing the worst, as every other doctor meeting had established a down-hill trend of slowly unveiling the truth of our worst fears. There is no escaping this thing. It's been the most incredible thing to even be in the throes of intimacy, be able to both cry at the invasion of this "unwanted bedfellow," but love at new levels through it. God is good. Our love for Him and for each other has only gotten deeper.
So all in all, we're still OK. We want to do worship together one more time before this all begins. We're up with the Holy Smoke core team on Sunday the 5th. Who knows if Phil or I will be able to do anything all summer, so this one is particularly important to us. I was even considering calling Click to see if he would join us -- just for the fun of it.
Well, my dear friend. I just wanted to talk more personally with you for a while. I've finished my coffee, and I'm off to breakfast with the girls. We went to Martha's Vineyard yesterday while the boys have been camping, and had a great time. I love you!
We saw the radiologist today -- Dr. Howes. He was extremely easy to talk to, and explained the coming course of treatment for Phil.
It looks like it will be as discussed with the oncologist -- a 5-week course of combined radiation and chemotherapy to shrink the tumor, and then evaluate. He said that while he didn't want to inflate our hopes too high, that he has seen cases where the patient responds so favorably to this treatment, that surgery is not necessary. So pray, pray, pray!!!
It's not supposed to be an easy road. Side effects are just about a certainty according to the doctor. We are greatly comforted that our God is not confined to what doctors think! The radiation will happen 5 days a week for the whole 5 weeks.
Chemotherapy begins at the same time, with a 5-day hospital stay. Then Phil will be given a belt-pack with medicine that will drip into what they call a "porta-cath" which will be surgically implanted into his chest. In other words, whether he's in the hospital or at home, chemo will be 24-hours a day for 5 weeks (ugh!). Around the 4th week, it's back in the hospital for another 5 days, and he'll finish out his course at home. He will also have a food port implanted into his intestines at the same time as the porta-cath, so they can administer food "direct" to keep Phil's weight up should swallowing become painful. We are praying that the mighty grace of God will make this a needless precaution!
All in all, we are coming to grips with the reality of all this. While it is incredibly hard to endure, there is grace -- enough for every day. Phil is not exactly looking forward to this treatment, but is taking a deep breath and facing it head on. We know God is with us. Who can be against us?!
By way of encouragement, and with deep awe I want to tell you how moved I was when I saw a clipboard from church this past Sunday, with nearly every day in July and August signed-up for to cover us daily with prayer and fasting. It is impossible to describe what that does for us -- emotionally and spiritually. We've been so dazed by all of this that we can barely fight. But to know that you are fighting with all your might frees us to rest in the Lord. Now that we've recovered somewhat from the shock, we feel more enabled to fight with you.
With our deepest thanks and hearts filled with love,
Back to TopClick to read Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Parts VI and VII