A LOVE STORY

by Eleanor Gasparik

(Reprinted by permission from the Summer 1994 issue of the Canadian Orthodox Messenger)

I'm not an extraordinary Christian. I don't pray ceaselessly...I don't read scripture faithfully every day...I don't recognize my sins and repent of them nearly often enough...I don't always love my neighbour, never mind my enemy. The list could go on, but you can get the picture. I tell you this so that as you read this story you won't imagine me to be someone I'm not. I struggle, and regularly fail, to live the Orthodox life in Christ to which we are called.

Still and all, I love God above all else. This story is about that love...and about His greater love for me.

On October 20, 1992 I learned that I had cancer of the lymph system. I was a happy, energetic 42-year old, had a terrific 12-year old daughter (Jordan), worked full-time in a new, growing retail business, and had been blessed to be a part of the parish of St. Herman's in Edmonton for about eight years. I said to God that first evening: "Whatever happens may it be to Your glory." When I turned to the scriptures I was led to Philippians 1:3-30. I remember talking with Jordan about St. Paul's dilemma of being torn between two desires, and our discussing whether it's easier to die for Christ or live for Him.

The next evening I wrote these words in my diary, trying to describe what I had just experienced: "As I lay in bed, quietly, a few tears in the stillness inside of me not in my head (it wasn't a thought!) and not a feeling of being okay but a pure somehow articulated (?) (that's the closest word I can think of) TRUTH (that seemed to be in me and around me) that said: 'I will not die from this.' It was as if I heard the words and felt them but I didn't make them up; I didn't create the words or voice them they were just there.

I knew it as Truth. And I believe God gave me to know that truth because He loved me and wanted me to know His will. My task in what was to come was to trust and have faith in His truth, His love, His will in Him. And He would look after me. Looking back, that's exactly what He did and continues to do. Here are a few "chapters" from the story.

Dealing with the News

I cried. But I truly never once thought "why me?" or was resentful toward or angry with God. I was never afraid of either dying or living through a healing process. No denial or despair. At first it didn't seem quite real, believable I had to actively concentrate on telling myself "I have cancer." But I have to say an honest and real acceptance came quickly and with peace. From what I've read and understood, this isn't the usual case. I absolutely believe what made it possible came through and from our Lord.

Sharing the Good News

Good news is every time the Lord is working in our lives. When He is working salvation in the midst of the earth, we need to let others in on it. I felt an urging and a need to share my cancer news from the very beginning. The love and prayers and support of my family and friends especially those at St. Herman's wrapped me and held me and made me know God's grace and love for me. But it works the other way, too. One day I wrote, "How often do we prevent another from coming closer to God because we won't let them share in our sadness, our troubles, our diseases, our fears...how selfish...sharing isn't just for joys." For those who took me, my cancer, my life, into their lives and held me up to God in prayer, I think they also came to know God's grace and love.

Decision Time

I was fortunate that the cancer was found so early that when I told the doctor I wanted time to consider everything, he set my next appointment a month later. The medical recommendation was weekly chemotherapy for twelve consecutive weeks. Chemotherapy wasn't an automatic choice for me. There was naturopathy and holistic medicine. As a Christian, I believe in miraculous healing and Holy Unction. Perhaps I was to do nothing at all?

Because I know that the Lord is in all things, for me it came down to "where am I to meet Him?" The answer I got? In chemotherapy. I found it really hard to wrap my mind around the notion of voluntarily pumping a rotating menu of chemicals into my body every Wednesday for twelve weeks. I mean, we're talking about a lifetime non-smoker, a health-conscious eater whose only drug in the house was a bottle of baby aspirin with a 1982 expiration date. In the time the Lord provided me, I came to understand living the words we say every week at Divine Liturgy: "We commend ourselves and each other and all our life unto Christ our God." This wasn't about "chemical cocktails" invading my body. There was no "my" anything; all of me was His. If I was truly His servant, I needed to embrace what was to come with that understanding.

Chemotherapy Side Effects

I received a page-long description of each of the eleven drugs with its chemical make-up, function and guaranteed and possible side effects. Major effects to look forward to were nausea, appetite loss, hair and nail loss, tiredness, insomnia, nausea, temporary and permanent nerve damage, nausea, mood-swings, and more nausea. I went to Holy Unction before starting chemotherapy and began every morning with holy water and a prayer. I had only about twelve hours in total of feeling really crummy with periods of nausea, and I missed eight days of work as three of the sessions left me very tired; but otherwise I worked full-time and ate normally throughout. I did have insomnia, and I lost fingernails and all of my hair (but thankfully not my sense of humor).

There were some great hair or, make that hairless stories from this time, such as the one when I greeted some trying-not-to-look-stunned guests without my wig on: my daughter subtly tried to hint that something was amiss; I didn't catch on until she did a really obvious charade-kind of pantomime and then I rushed to put the wig on in order to spare our visitors any more discomfort; but as we recalled the looks on their faces, Jordan's gesturing, and my obliviousness, we started laughing hysterically as I jammed the wig on and headed back to the living room. But I had put it on crookedly, so there were the two of us sliding this wig around on my bald head, killing ourselves laughing while trying to get things under control.

And then there was the time that a low-lying branch snagged my winter toque and took it and the wig up into the air. And all the hairball and shampoo jokes...my daughter saying she could track me anywhere by following the "loose hairbits"...melting and frizzing the wig hair when I looked into a hot oven....

But enough: back to the side effects! My hands, fingers and joints often hurt. Sometimes even my skin hurt. I had mouth sores. I mean I wasn't immune, but I did notice some surprise on the part of the medical staff each week when they asked about side effects. They make it a policy never to speculate to patients which side effects might affect them and to what degree. So it wasn't until it was all over that the nurses and doctors I met with told me that the level of side effects I experienced was unusually low and "highly abnormal" (their words); I figure "normal when from on high" is closer to the truth! Sure it's all relative, but even today I don't know if I fully appreciate just how much easier it was for me than for most people. And everything got back to normal pretty quickly.

Life After Cancer

Medical statistics say if tests are negative for two years, prognosis is good that there will be no recurrence. That's comforting, but my assurance lies in the Lord. But I'm no saint, and my faith is not perfect. There are those twinges every once in a while where I first found the lump. Never mind twinges! Is that a lump again? I feel a little tired...is it a different kind of tired than usual?...I look at the veins on my hand and remember the IVs...You can drive yourself crazy worrying, wondering, remembering.

I went to talk to Father Stephen about it, to sort out a response to it all. And I received another Truth from God through him. I was changed because of the cancer, the things I had to think about and deal with, the whole experience...but those things didn't change me. God did. The change was real and would always be a part of me, but more importantly, the Changer was real and in me. For me those twinges and recollections are not reminders of cancer, of side effects, of a past to forget or a future to fear. They are a living reminder that can be no closer because it's in my very body that God is real, that I have known His love and protection, and that He is faithful to those who love Him.

There were other "chapters" bearing equal witness to God's presence, and lots more are still to be written, I hope! But mine is not an isolated story. I don't think God does "limited availability only" love stories, to be experienced by only a select few. The Lord has is a love story for each of us. Mine included cancer. I might not have picked it that way, but having lived it, I wouldn't trade it. It drew me closer to God and became for my salvation. And for that I give thanks.

Every good and perfect gift is from above...if this story held some gift for you that touched your heart or mind or soul, give all glory and honour, praise to the Lord!