My game plan for survival
December 12, 2004 | 12:00am
I’ve gone through a wild swing ride these past two weeks.
Some moments I’ve been filled with optimism and hope, and then I get scared and wonder what awaits me next. I am just glad to say that the swing has steadily stabilized, and I believe I have become calmer, more at peace and hopeful with each passing day.
My life has never been the same since I learned the result of the MRI (magnetic resonance imaging) done on my brain last Nov. 25.
"Enhancing lesions in the cerebellum and left cerebral hemisphere indicative of metastatic disease," the official reading said. In laymen’s words, my breast cancer had traveled and lodged its malignant cells in my brain. I looked at the MRI plates with my physicians Dr. Vicente Hizon and Dr. Yoly Gonzalez, and the masses in at least four locations were plain to see.
How swiftly had the cancer moved! After being diagnosed with breast cancer (right breast) in Dec. 2003, I had had a mastectomy, six rounds of chemotherapy, a month of the linear accelerator (radiation) to my right chest. I also had a total hysterectomy to take out my ovaries (which produces estrogen, the hormone implicated in breast cancer) last August.
Throughout my treatment and recovery I had been truly hopeful, and had gained enough strength to return regularly to work by November. So upbeat was I about my recovery that I even wrote It’s Great to Be Alive!, for The STAR last Nov. 16. Here I recalled my delight at having attended AVON’s Kiss Good-bye to Breast Campaign where 11 other ladies and I were presented as breast cancer survivors last October at the Peninsula Manila.
And then the bombshell.
I cried like I had never cried before, not even when I first learned I had breast cancer. I just wailed. The thought that I might die was so starkly real, as was the fact that I was just 41 years old and I so wanted to live.
I rang up my uncle Rudy Lucas, my boss Joanne Rae Ramirez, my oncologist Dr. Yoly Gonzalez, my brother Bobby and my sister-in-law Lorie. I couldn’t bear to tell my 76-year-old Mama Rose myself (my uncles told her later). I texted my sister Rida in the US.
I’m blessed to have made those phone calls, blessed even still to talk to those I did face to face or by text in the days that followed, and also to hear from many other friends who would ask how I was doing and text me, too, that their best wishes and prayers were with me. For their wisdom and counsel gave me a serenity I know I could not have achieved on my own.
From them and from my own self I have been able to reach certain conclusions I’ve been relying on daily truths that are literally now keeping me alive. I believe in them, I will live by them and I will derive strength from them. My game plan for survival is to daily remind myself of the beauty and importance of these truths.
I cannot claim to say – especially now – that I understand the ways in which God works. But with all sincerity I can say that I believe a hundred percent that GOD LOVES ME TOTALLY.
This fact has been important for me to realize and remember, because if God loves me totally, then it follows that He will not only not abandon me, He will take care of me the best way that He knows how.
Oftentimes, in the midst of all the side effects of chemotherapy and radiation, I have often wondered: Why must I carry my cross at all? What is the point of suffering and why must I endure it?
Trusting in God’s wisdom and mercy is difficult to do especially when one is in pain. This is the one act that truly requires a leap of faith for it asks us to trust beyond our fears, our doubts and our weakening will.
God is God and can do anything He wants. If He wants to take away my cancer any time, He most surely can. But the fact that He allows me to go through the whole process of carrying my cross must mean that He wants me to undergo suffering for some reason.
"Consider yourself privileged," was my Tito Rudy’s reminder, "for you were chosen to share in the suffering of Christ." My mom put it this way: "God truly loves those who really suffer."
If you ask me – honestly – I wouldn’t, I don’t want to suffer. If possible I ask God if I can please not suffer. But if it must be, then I just pray to be given the strength to see any pain through. Just please give me the strength I may not have. Let me not resist pain please, I pray, but let me make the most of it.
In an inspiring sermon telecast on the Eternal Word Television Network, a priest said that Christ is the perfect God because when it comes to the full spectrum of human suffering, there is not a single one that He Himself did not suffer. Name it, and Christ has suffered it.
Christ knows how the thought alone of suffering can terrify us; He knows how it feels to be strongly and relentlessly tempted; to be betrayed and abandoned by loved ones; to endure public humiliation; to suffer physical torture; even to face death. There is no human experience Christ cannot relate to, because He has suffered them all Himself. That’s why, the priest explained, we can approach Christ anytime for any pain or cross we must bear and He can sympathize in the truest sense of the word.
When I am in pain now, I just try to call out and reach out to Christ, and ask Him to hold my hand and see me through.
One other source of comfort is knowing that Mother Mary is with me, too, and so are the saints and angels. When I am really in pain I just close my eyes and imagine myself lying on the lap of Mama Mary, and she’s there holding my hand. A mom knows best what a child feels, and we are so fortunate to have a mother in Mary.
On retrospect, I wonder why the first thought that crossed my mind when I learned the MRI result was that I would die. For while that possibility is there, THE OTHER POSSIBILITY IS THAT I COULD BEAT THE CANCER AND LIVE!
My doctors have been remarkably supportive in this light. "There is great hope, Ann," Dr. Gonzalez assured. "The linear accelerator combined with the latest medication, Temodal (Temozolomide) shrinks brain masses. And you are still young, you have the strength to recover."
Dr. Gonzalez reminded me of the Filipino adage: Nasa Diyos ang awa, nasa tao ang gawa (God is merciful, but we humans should act). The important thing is that we do what we can on our end, and trust in God for the results."
"You know Ann we should just take and live one day at a time," she added. "When we wake up we should say ‘Thank God for another day!’ then do what we can for that day. Don’t think too much about what’s far away."
When I am daunted by the side effects of another round of chemo – body malaise, weakness, gastrointestinal disturbances, etc. – I just remember this: Every step I take is a step for survival, a step to keep alive. This alone should keep me motivated.
I will thus do what I can, then leave the rest to God.
The benefits of keeping positive cannot be stated enough. It has helped me to maintain positive energies. I try to be positive by listening to good music (especially those I grew up on, as played by DZRJ), watching hilarious comedies, reading inspiring passages and remembering good things that happened to me in the past (even those way, way back in my childhood).
I never realized how satisfying dwelling on good memories can be – they not only make me smile, they remind me that life has given me many good moments I should be thankful for.
I need to be positive because I cannot recover fully if my body doesn’t feel like recovering; my body must want to get well cheerfully, happily, positively – without a doubt!
And most importantly, I will try to keep positive by focusing on the good side. Sure, my cancer is in my brain, but at least it’s only there and not elsewhere. Sure, I do feel pain, but I am alive and I can interact with my family and friends. Sure, the cost of cancer treatment is staggering, but when did God ever not provide for all the medicines I needed?
I cannot afford to worry. So I will throw it to the wind. As my family and friends remind me, THE IMPORTANT THING NOW IS TO FOCUS ON GETTING WELL. DON’T WASTE YOUR ENERGY ON NEEDLESS WORRY.
For all that is happening to me now, I hope I can always say "thank you." My family, friends, STAR president/CEO Miguel Belmonte and STAR colleagues have been extraordinarily supportive, kind and reliable, and I cannot thank them enough. God gave me another chance to witness goodness face to face in my helpful neighbors, and I thank Him for that.
In the same way that my neighbors have helped me, I now offer all my pains for them as well, especially those suffering much, the dying and the sick and those with cancer. I pray that my pains alleviate theirs somehow.
I especially appreciate my husband Benjie, who has never left my side since "the bombshell." I rely so much on him now, everything from adjusting the temperature of the aircon to accompanying me for treatments. I know I can be grouchy, too, when I am on chemo, but he takes it in stride.
If only for the generosity and encouragement of everyone who loves me and cares for me, I KNOW I WILL NOT GIVE UP THE FIGHT, FOR I OWE IT TO THEM AS MUCH AS I OWE IT TO MYSELF AND GOD.
What will come of all my efforts? What may lie ahead?
Only the future can tell now.
The important thing is to KEEP THE FAITH, KEEP STRONG, and TRUST IN GOD.
It’s just a few more days to go before Christmas, and I hear much complaining about how "hard" or "harsh" this Christmas may be with all the financial crisis and calamities we have experienced lately. But I hope that we might all take time to think of this – THAT BY GOD’s GRACE WE ARE ALL ALIVE.
Shouldn’t that alone be reason enough to kneel, to praise our Lord and give Him a heartfelt "Thank you?"
Some moments I’ve been filled with optimism and hope, and then I get scared and wonder what awaits me next. I am just glad to say that the swing has steadily stabilized, and I believe I have become calmer, more at peace and hopeful with each passing day.
My life has never been the same since I learned the result of the MRI (magnetic resonance imaging) done on my brain last Nov. 25.
"Enhancing lesions in the cerebellum and left cerebral hemisphere indicative of metastatic disease," the official reading said. In laymen’s words, my breast cancer had traveled and lodged its malignant cells in my brain. I looked at the MRI plates with my physicians Dr. Vicente Hizon and Dr. Yoly Gonzalez, and the masses in at least four locations were plain to see.
How swiftly had the cancer moved! After being diagnosed with breast cancer (right breast) in Dec. 2003, I had had a mastectomy, six rounds of chemotherapy, a month of the linear accelerator (radiation) to my right chest. I also had a total hysterectomy to take out my ovaries (which produces estrogen, the hormone implicated in breast cancer) last August.
Throughout my treatment and recovery I had been truly hopeful, and had gained enough strength to return regularly to work by November. So upbeat was I about my recovery that I even wrote It’s Great to Be Alive!, for The STAR last Nov. 16. Here I recalled my delight at having attended AVON’s Kiss Good-bye to Breast Campaign where 11 other ladies and I were presented as breast cancer survivors last October at the Peninsula Manila.
And then the bombshell.
I cried like I had never cried before, not even when I first learned I had breast cancer. I just wailed. The thought that I might die was so starkly real, as was the fact that I was just 41 years old and I so wanted to live.
I rang up my uncle Rudy Lucas, my boss Joanne Rae Ramirez, my oncologist Dr. Yoly Gonzalez, my brother Bobby and my sister-in-law Lorie. I couldn’t bear to tell my 76-year-old Mama Rose myself (my uncles told her later). I texted my sister Rida in the US.
I’m blessed to have made those phone calls, blessed even still to talk to those I did face to face or by text in the days that followed, and also to hear from many other friends who would ask how I was doing and text me, too, that their best wishes and prayers were with me. For their wisdom and counsel gave me a serenity I know I could not have achieved on my own.
From them and from my own self I have been able to reach certain conclusions I’ve been relying on daily truths that are literally now keeping me alive. I believe in them, I will live by them and I will derive strength from them. My game plan for survival is to daily remind myself of the beauty and importance of these truths.
This fact has been important for me to realize and remember, because if God loves me totally, then it follows that He will not only not abandon me, He will take care of me the best way that He knows how.
Oftentimes, in the midst of all the side effects of chemotherapy and radiation, I have often wondered: Why must I carry my cross at all? What is the point of suffering and why must I endure it?
Trusting in God’s wisdom and mercy is difficult to do especially when one is in pain. This is the one act that truly requires a leap of faith for it asks us to trust beyond our fears, our doubts and our weakening will.
God is God and can do anything He wants. If He wants to take away my cancer any time, He most surely can. But the fact that He allows me to go through the whole process of carrying my cross must mean that He wants me to undergo suffering for some reason.
"Consider yourself privileged," was my Tito Rudy’s reminder, "for you were chosen to share in the suffering of Christ." My mom put it this way: "God truly loves those who really suffer."
If you ask me – honestly – I wouldn’t, I don’t want to suffer. If possible I ask God if I can please not suffer. But if it must be, then I just pray to be given the strength to see any pain through. Just please give me the strength I may not have. Let me not resist pain please, I pray, but let me make the most of it.
Christ knows how the thought alone of suffering can terrify us; He knows how it feels to be strongly and relentlessly tempted; to be betrayed and abandoned by loved ones; to endure public humiliation; to suffer physical torture; even to face death. There is no human experience Christ cannot relate to, because He has suffered them all Himself. That’s why, the priest explained, we can approach Christ anytime for any pain or cross we must bear and He can sympathize in the truest sense of the word.
When I am in pain now, I just try to call out and reach out to Christ, and ask Him to hold my hand and see me through.
One other source of comfort is knowing that Mother Mary is with me, too, and so are the saints and angels. When I am really in pain I just close my eyes and imagine myself lying on the lap of Mama Mary, and she’s there holding my hand. A mom knows best what a child feels, and we are so fortunate to have a mother in Mary.
My doctors have been remarkably supportive in this light. "There is great hope, Ann," Dr. Gonzalez assured. "The linear accelerator combined with the latest medication, Temodal (Temozolomide) shrinks brain masses. And you are still young, you have the strength to recover."
Dr. Gonzalez reminded me of the Filipino adage: Nasa Diyos ang awa, nasa tao ang gawa (God is merciful, but we humans should act). The important thing is that we do what we can on our end, and trust in God for the results."
"You know Ann we should just take and live one day at a time," she added. "When we wake up we should say ‘Thank God for another day!’ then do what we can for that day. Don’t think too much about what’s far away."
When I am daunted by the side effects of another round of chemo – body malaise, weakness, gastrointestinal disturbances, etc. – I just remember this: Every step I take is a step for survival, a step to keep alive. This alone should keep me motivated.
I will thus do what I can, then leave the rest to God.
I never realized how satisfying dwelling on good memories can be – they not only make me smile, they remind me that life has given me many good moments I should be thankful for.
I need to be positive because I cannot recover fully if my body doesn’t feel like recovering; my body must want to get well cheerfully, happily, positively – without a doubt!
And most importantly, I will try to keep positive by focusing on the good side. Sure, my cancer is in my brain, but at least it’s only there and not elsewhere. Sure, I do feel pain, but I am alive and I can interact with my family and friends. Sure, the cost of cancer treatment is staggering, but when did God ever not provide for all the medicines I needed?
I cannot afford to worry. So I will throw it to the wind. As my family and friends remind me, THE IMPORTANT THING NOW IS TO FOCUS ON GETTING WELL. DON’T WASTE YOUR ENERGY ON NEEDLESS WORRY.
In the same way that my neighbors have helped me, I now offer all my pains for them as well, especially those suffering much, the dying and the sick and those with cancer. I pray that my pains alleviate theirs somehow.
I especially appreciate my husband Benjie, who has never left my side since "the bombshell." I rely so much on him now, everything from adjusting the temperature of the aircon to accompanying me for treatments. I know I can be grouchy, too, when I am on chemo, but he takes it in stride.
If only for the generosity and encouragement of everyone who loves me and cares for me, I KNOW I WILL NOT GIVE UP THE FIGHT, FOR I OWE IT TO THEM AS MUCH AS I OWE IT TO MYSELF AND GOD.
Only the future can tell now.
The important thing is to KEEP THE FAITH, KEEP STRONG, and TRUST IN GOD.
It’s just a few more days to go before Christmas, and I hear much complaining about how "hard" or "harsh" this Christmas may be with all the financial crisis and calamities we have experienced lately. But I hope that we might all take time to think of this – THAT BY GOD’s GRACE WE ARE ALL ALIVE.
Shouldn’t that alone be reason enough to kneel, to praise our Lord and give Him a heartfelt "Thank you?"
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