see it, believe it.
On November 23rd, the day before Thanksgiving, my Dad was told he had stage IV lung cancer. My husband and I had flown in days before to be with my Dad as his GI doctor had already shared with him that a biopsy came back positive for cancer cells. I knew it would be bad. The cancer was found in his liver but it did not originate there. Because we had walked a similar journey with my Mom only three years prior, I knew the oncologist would say, out loud, "stage IV." I tried to prepare myself but you can only prepare yourself so much to hear devastating news. Stage IV lung cancer. A year to live WITH treatment. The oncologist wanted to start my Dad on immunotherapy right away. They wanted to schedule to put the port in within the next few days.
My Dad went in believing that the doctors were wrong. He felt great. When the nurse and oncologist asked my Dad if he was still able to perform basic functions like bathe himself or walk without assistance, he looked at them like they were crazy and told them he felt better than he had in years. That is how bad the cancer appeared on scans. So bad that my Dad should not be able to even bathe himself. But yet, I was looking at a man who was healthy, energetic, and ridiculously positive.
A second opinion was a definite. With the direction and guidance from dear friends, we took my Dad to Cancer Treatment Centers of America in Newnan, GA. We were impressed from the moment we arrived. Everything went so smoothly. Their system runs like a well oiled machine. They know their stuff. After a few days of tests and scans, my Dad met his oncologist. The scans had not changed. They still showed large tumors on his liver and gall bladder. The doctor was honest with my Dad and with us. Without treatment, my Dad would live six months and suffer as horribly as my Mom did. That was the bad news. The good news is that his first diagnosis was wrong. My dad did not have stage IV lung cancer. There was no cancer in his lungs. Guys. This was HUGE. This was huge on so many levels. Instead, my Dad was diagnosed with Cholangiocarcinoma. It was still stage IV. It was still not good. It is actually the same cancer my Mom had. We saw how horrible it was firsthand. It is an incredibly rare cancer and the odds of spouses having it are astronomical and practically unheard of. But. We had hope. They gave us hope. My Dad's oncologist believed my Dad could beat it. So we had hope. My Dad started treatments immediately. The plan was to do radiation and chemo in an effort to shrink the tumors enough so he could have surgery to remove a large portion of his liver. For five weeks, he had radiation and wore a chemo bag in his port five days a week. He made countless trips to Newnan, GA, staying overnight as needed. In the middle of February, my Dad had a scan. The first one since he started treatment early December. I am weepy as I write this. The scan showed that 50% of his cancer was gone! He will not even need surgery! It is truly remarkable. Truly miraculous.
I am still grieving my Mom's death. I miss her so much it aches. The possibility of walking a similar journey with my Dad was almost unbearable. It was as if I was a Good Friday observer, feeling a sense of hopelessness and despair. But we have experienced many Sundays. Many days and moments of incredible hope and confidence that God is working for my Dad's good.
I could write a novel about this whole experience. But today, I want to focus on how this story can save someone's life. My Dad received the wrong diagnosis. Had he not gone for a second opinion, I am not sure if my Dad would still be with us. The immunotherapy treatment the first oncologist wanted to use would not have touched the cancer because it does not treat my Dad's cancer. It works magically on other cancers but not my Dad's. Friends, please do not settle for one diagnosis. Get a second opinion, a third opinion. Do your research. This is especially true if you live in a smaller town and only have access to a limited number of doctors.
My Dad is now taking an oral chemo pill and will have another scan within the next few weeks. I am looking forward to my Dad calling to tell me that he is cancer free. We know it is a matter of when and not if.
On this Good Friday, we can face anything because God did not spare even His own Son. The darkest of days is still good because God is not withholding any good from us.
