A Time to Look Back

In a few hours, 2017 comes to an end and a new year, 2018, will be ushered in with fanfare. Already, several countries around the world have showcased extravagant New Year celebrations. Millions of people across the world from Austria to Australia, China to Chile will celebrate with fireworks and parties, the exuberance of a new beginning.  It’s good to put the past behind and look forward to the possibilities and expectations of a new year.  However, before we move on, I would like to take a last review of what 2017 was for me.

Looking back one can find moments of joys and sorrows, moments of exhilaration and times of foreboding, moments of ecstasy followed by times of grief. That’s typical for any year, but 2017 was particularly noteworthy for those emotional swings. Here are a few of those encounters which are etched in my memory.

 In April, I celebrated the ten year anniversary of my diagnosis with nasopharyngeal cancer. But within a few days, I was informed by dermatologist that a suspicious nodule removed from my inner left leg had tested positive for angiosarcoma. After requesting a second opinion, it was confirmed that the initial diagnosis was correct and I now faced a protocol that would include surgery to remove a larger swath of tissue from the offending area followed by six weeks (30 sessions) of radiation therapy. The first attempt of surgery was suspended after anesthesia was administered because the doctors encounter difficulty performing an intubation as a result of the traumatized and scarred oropharyngeal pathway from treatment 10:years prior.

After a second successful attempt at surgery, and before the radiation began, I received the sad news that my 95 year old mother was hospitalized. She had suffered a fall, which by itself appeared innocuous. However, accompanied by suspected pneumonia, she quickly declined and passed away on September 29. I postponed the start of my radiology treatment to travel to Tobago, where along with my siblings and scores of relatives and friends, we were privileged to pay tribute to our dear mother as she was laid to rest on October 8.

I completed my radiation therapy on November 29. It was also the day on which my wife, Nichole had surgery for a seriously torn rotator cuff and biceps muscle. We were both incapacitated for several weeks - she, painfully enduring the post-op pain, and I, hobbling with the raw deteriorating skin as a result of six weeks of radiation. 

As we both improved, we received news that my now widowed, 99 year old Dad had experienced several falls. As his muscles wear weak and his sight fails, he finds it more difficult to keep his balance. But old habits and manly ways along with the tendency to suppress his desire to be active lends to the habit of perhaps taking too many risks that a 99 year old should avoid. The mild bruises and short hospital stays nonetheless, he carries on towards the landmark of one hundred years.

As Christmas approached, we received news that our older brother was admitted to the Scarborough General Hospital in our island home, Tobago. He had experienced several hospitalizations over the last few months and this time appeared ominous. The new year will begin with him clinging to life after being medivaced to the larger and better equipped  San Fernando General Hospital on the larger sister island of Trinidad as he tenuously clings to life.

What a year! Despite the foreboding of Junior’s health, hope springs eternal and every day, every year, bears promises of love and laughter amid the pain, sorrow and hurts that are a natural part of living on this earth. I am grateful for a loving, caring wife, two devoted children, three wonderful grandchildren and blessings too numerous to count.  I look forward to the Centennial celebration of our dad, Henry - his 100th birthday. What a celebration that would be!  “For everything there is an appointed time, and an appropriate time for every activity on earth:”

‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭3:1‬ ‭NET‬‬

http://bible.com/107/ecc.3.1.net

Love and blessings, always!

HEALTH UPDATE XXIV

June 14, 2008


This is a year of reminiscing! Thinking of last year, what was, and what might have been. Every day, I say to myself, and often to my wife or anyone who would listen: “Last year at this time…” At this time last year, I had just completed one round of chemotherapy and two weeks of my seven-week radiation treatment schedule. I had begun to lose my appetite and hence had dropped a few pounds but still had the energy to do a 15 mile bike ride at an average 15 mph clip on Father’s Day. However, I began to anticipate the road ahead as I developed slight throat pain and my radiation oncologist advised me to fill the prescription for the magic mouthwash so I’d have it ready when the pain became more intense. It seems like yesterday. Every experience is etched in my memory and although the journey back to my former healthy life is still ongoing, I can thank God for bringing me through the valley of the shadow of death with renewed hope for prolonged blessings in this life and an eager anticipation for the return of our Savior.

I have two good reports: My friend, Dr. Vernon Andrews, is recuperating well after his open heart surgery and is looking forward to a life of vitality. He thanks you for the many prayers you have offered on his behalf. Also, there has been a significant reduction in the swelling of my throat over the last couple of weeks. Today, eating has become more comfortable and pleasurable. Some of my colleagues at work tell me that the spring in my step is returning.

Those of you who know me well remember me for my love of music, especially singing. I have had over fifty years of the most wonderful experience of vocalizing for appreciative audiences. One of my earliest memories is singing along with the congregation on my mother’s lap in a tent meeting. Today, the physiological and anatomical changes around my vocal folds prevent me from doing any meaningful, audible singing although my doctors promise that my voice will also return to normal. Last Sabbath, as I opened the hymnal to sing the closing hymn with the congregation I could merely complete two stanzas. The sound that emanated from my lips was not what most of you were used to hearing. But as the congregation sang the third stanza, the tears welled in my eyes as I was reassured anew by the God I love and the friend who has been so faithful to me. I could now listen to the sound of my heart.

Lead on, O King Eternal,

We follow, not with fears,

For gladness breaks like morning

Where’er Thy face appears;

Thy cross is lifted o’er us;

We journey in its light;

The crown awaits the conquest;

Lead on, O God of might.

Yes, even in death's shadow, he leads. And I believe that the morning of a new day is soon to come. To paraphrase a popular southern gospel song: “Some glad morning when this night is o’er, I’ll sing again.” Yes, I will sing again. Will you sing with me?

Love and Blessings,

Len