My cancer journey: The power of prayer

My cancer journey: The power of prayer

"Bitter suffering is both painful and necessary...the souls whom God plunges into this conflict are souls whom He loves. And when in the midst of all this conflict they say Fiat (i.e. Thy will be done) their suffering and the Divine Will beautifully….. become one...”  From “They Speak in Silences”, the diaries of a Carthusian Monk.

In January 2021 a few weeks after Christmas I started to notice a small lump on the outside of my left thigh between the knee and my waist. The initial thought was to dismiss this as a bee sting or a mosquito bite. When after 2 or 3 weeks this small lump did not go away but actually seemed to be growing, I remembered that in fact it being winter there would be neither bees or mosquitoes around. A few weeks later the lump had become big enough to concern me to the point of contacting my local Doctors’ Practice and as it was during the corona virus pandemic, we conducted a telephone consultation with the doctor following which I sent an image of the lump to him via my phone. And there started a series of escalating hospital tests on the lump until on 13^th May 2021, the Feast of Our Lady of Fatima and the final of 33 days me and some friends had been on a Retreat to be consecrated to the Immaculate Heart of The Blessed Virgin Mary. This was the day I was told that the lump on my leg was in fact a type of cancer called sarcoma.

I had little time to take all this in as I was also told by the doctor that we would need to move very fast to deal with this aggressive lump. For my part I decided to surrender this new reality about myself to The Blessed Virgin Mary. From that point, I told Mother Mary that this illness was for her carry for me and that my role was to just pray each day and trust in her intercessions to the Lord on my behalf. When I told my friends and family about my diagnosis they came together and arranged a Novena set of daily prayers to St Peregrine, the Patron Saint of cancer suffers. Many priests and Catholic bishops offered Masses for me including my local parish priest and the local congregation. It was all so humbling and reassuring to see so many people coming together to pray for my healing.

Inwardly, I knew that I was at the cross roads. That I might recover. Or that I may not. And so may eventually go as a result. And nothing of the journey ahead was clear and nothing could have prepared me for this. I was travelling into uncharted territory. No one had the crystal ball to tell me where it would all end up. The medical teams though, bless them, kept reassuring me they would do their best and all would be well—but that despite any best efforts there were still risks and an element of uncertainty. My family were worried, and kept praying.

But somehow through all this - and I have not yet understood why or how - I had an inner peace. I was not afraid of the unknown that was staring me in the face. I was not anxious. I was not bitter. I was at peace with myself. I kept trying to do all the things one would normally do though I did make some adjustments to my way of living, essentially moving to a more healthy life style. My employers, and bless them too, they gave me time off to focus on my treatment and to return when all was well again.

My treatment regime was outlined to comprise two stages: The first a set of a large number of daily radiation therapy sessions, 25 in all. These would be followed after a rest period by the second stage of surgery to remove the offending cancerous lump on my leg, which had by now grown to a massive six inches lengthwise and about three inches at its widest and by now growing ever more aggressively, and clearly visible to anyone taking even a casual look at me.

Over the journey with this treatment I witnessed unparalleled love, care and concern from everyone around me. People went out of their way to support me with prayers and material offers, including a friend who daily drove me to hospital and back for my radiation sessions. The hospital staff were always so nice in the way they treated and looked after me. The prayers continued. I would accept whatever outcome this would lead to. I lost about 10kg of weight during my radiation phase and those who know me well said I looked somewhat unwell. Still I kept my inner peace referred to above.

On the morning of the surgery I woke up early and took a shower. As I washed my body it occurred to me that that left leg of mine would never look the same again. This would be the last time I was washing it without a big wound as yet unknown how it would appear on my physique. A few hours later the surgeon carrying out the operation comes by and tells me he has prioritised me and I am now first on the theatre list for the day. Is this another aspect of divine intervention? The nurses come. One conducts a corona virus test on me, another take blood samples, another checks my blood pressure and several other pre surgery preparatory tests and precautions known by these angelic specialists. Another doctor comes and explains to me what will happen this morning and gives me some reassurances and asks if I have any questions or concerns. I have none. I am ready. Another brings me the gowns to change into for the transfer to the operating theatre. I am told to leave everything behind. Everything. Well, almost everything.

At this point I realise that nothing that I brought into hospital yesterday, apart from my wedding ring, is still on my person and it too has been wrapped up to avoid opportunistic infection. I am now at the point of disconnection from this material world into the next phase of the unknown. I do not know if the process will be successful, or if I will wake up back from the anaesthesia. A life lesson unfolded to me. That if I would not come back from theatre, my little suitcase with its meagre change clothes and toiletries, my wallet and small range of bank cards would all have become irrelevant. As would everything else that I had left at home that represents my material worldly possessions, so often the cause of considerable a dispute, anger and arguments. Someone would simply take over these for free. Perhaps this is what King Solomon concluded is all vanity (vanity of vanities) in the Book of Ecclesiasticus in the Bible.

Before I left hospital after a week’s stay the surgeon who carried out the operation came and delivered to me the good news that my cancer had been confirmed completely cleared and that I would soon go home to recuperate. I am grateful to the Almighty for prayers answered through the intercession of Our Blessed Mother Mary, St Peregrine the Patron of cancer sufferers, my guardian angel and the many other Saints whose help was sought through the prayers of the faithful multitudes who joined hands together to pray for my healing. Was this a miracle healing? I think so. From the day I came out of surgery, and of course I have been taking daily physio exercises to return to full fitness, I have never been in any pain to need any pain killers. When I kept saying I was not in any pain, one evening one of the nurses on night duty just said I should take the tablets regardless for she perhaps I was choosing to suffer in silence! Bless her. My wound was quite substantial because one of my thigh muscles had to be sacrificed and be removed as well. Still I have been so pleasantly surprised that I never really experienced the pain I feared would go with the enormity of what I had gone through.

We have a two and half year old granddaughter.  On the day I came out of hospital back at home the little girl comes and tries to grab the crutches away from me to mimic the way I am walking on these. After a few trials she realises they are too big for her and abandons this joke. A few days later I am out in the garden with her, one hand on crutch and the other pushing on her little swing.  Little Maya notices that I only have one crutch. She stops the swing and points to the other crutch visible inside the house and says, “There!”. I get the cue and hobble inside to pick it up. When I come back she is happy for us to continue our game on the swing. As I got better I began to leave one of the crutches downstairs just relying on one to eventually wean myself off them. In comes the little princess and in her blissful mind grandpa has perhaps lost one of his crutches. She picks it up and struggles up the stairs to hand me my “lost” crutch. This is now habit each time she visits and finds one of my crutches not associated with the rightful owner. How much more love and care can I ask for?

On my many hospital journeys I have seen numerous other people with cancer, some in great pain and physical discomfort and others poorly health wise. I consider myself lucky, well not lucky but blessed. Yes I have to count my blessings. I am in a much better place and experiencing much love, so magnificently encapsulated in little Maya.

Cancer diagnosis, yes it was. But there was a more important, much bigger story within this story. 'This sickness will not end in death, but it is for God's glory……’  Jn11:4. For me to see the hand of God first hand at work on my body and on my soul. To see the power of prayers by many being so purposefully offered. To see the response to prayers offered via St Peregrine. My diagnosis coinciding with a major Feast Day of The hand of The Blessed Virgin Mother and the finale of a consecration programme to Her Immaculate Heart. All for the greater glory. This illness was not really an illness but a manifestation of the power of the Almighty who created heaven and earth. And yet I am such an undeserving little poor soul. May His name be blessed for ever.

Our Blessed Mother Mary, pray for us;

St Peregrine, pray for us;

All the angels and Saints, pray for us.

Joseph 

October 2021