Treatment, Tears and a Taste of Heaven

One of the blessings of the past two days is the wonderful initiative of our children who have organised overnight rosters to take care of Geoff and to make sure I have a good rest.

Day by day we are also thankful for the amazing level of care Geoff is receiving, even so far as the radiation treatment being provided on a Saturday. Since arriving here in the ambulance on Monday evening, the oncologist has been making every effort to understand the cancer through symptoms, imaging and pathology (an x-ray, two CT scans, two MRIs, ultrasound guided biopsy, blood tests). 

Whilst all of this attention to reach a diagnosis should enable the best possible outcome in terms of treatment and care, I am sitting here pondering the impact and praying for extraordinary strength for my husband. Simply coping with the physical symptoms of pain, difficulty sleeping and changing bodily functions plus unfamiliar medication would be a recipe for exhaustion but advanced cancer comes with the emotional and spiritual challenges of a life cut short, of aspirations to deeper relationships, dreams and projects unlikely to be realised.

Yesterday morning, as I walked behind the wardsman wheeling Geoff (in bed) to the Cancer Centre, I was anticipating a quiet half-hour during the treatment. However, as we talked I sensed an unusual need for reassurance and ended up staying beside him into the radiation lab. Later on I understood how traumatic the first MRI had been. Lying alone, in pain, in that dark tunnel with a cacophony of strange noises stopping and starting, together with the fear that just one involuntary twitch might necessitate a restart of the whole torturous process can easily mess with the mind.

Flashbacks resulted in Geoff not wanting to let me out of his sight for all of Saturday. This led to his first ride in a wheelchair and an outing to the hospital cafe together! I was planning to take advantage of this newfound freedom hoping we could go on some outside walks but he hasn’t been well enough.

Extreme fatigue plus the inability to keep down food that had taken him over an hour to eat contributed to Geoff feeling that his time here may be rapidly drawing to a close. He wanted to speak with each of our children. Thankfully they were able to come in turns and after the conversations Geoff entered a new level of contentment. 

Although his vital signs are not giving cause for concern, the results of the brain MRI  were worse than expected with the early signs of cancer in the lining and in the skull base. No obvious compromise of the nervous system was indicated in the report. However, a new symptom of double vision has developed.

Sunday began with Geoff taken up with thoughts of heaven and continued with many tears as we sang and read the word together, rejoicing in God’s unsearchable ways and His infinite mercy and love towards us.

The children put together a playlist of the songs in our “Findlay Family Hymnal” which began three decades ago and grew out of a desire to sing contemporary songs of praise in our family devotions.The day ended with Geoff feeling that he had enjoyed a taste of heaven with his family and looking forward to dwelling in the presence of the Lamb more than ever.