Spreading Faster than Cancer

Late last year, my sister was running out of pillows. For weeks she was having trouble breathing whenever she lay in bed. At first piling up pillows behind her head helped. But when she had already piled them so high and still couldn't breathe well, she knew it might be more serious.

When she went for a check up, she was told there was fluid in her lungs - a lot of it that kept coming back even when the doctors drain it. The first suspicion was tuberculosis, but that was later ruled out. Soon the doctors identified the cause: by some strange complication, what’s in her lungs was abdominal fluid, which was being pushed up by a growth in her ovaries. It was cancer and she was told it was stage 4.

This sister of mine is the doctor in the family, so you can imagine how lost and confused we were now that the one person who knows how best to take care of all of us is the one who is sick.

But she had always been strong. She patiently explained every detail of her condition to us. She knew how to deal with the pain. (Though the nurses were all nervous around her because she knew their job better than they did.) She has 4 kids and she and her psychologist husband somehow managed to explain the situation to them in such a way that the kids knew the gravity of it but managed to cope.

In turn, my family helped in various ways. One sister spent time with their kids. Another sister spent time at the hospital and stayed by my sick sister’s side as much as she could. Our eldest sister was with “Couples for Christ” so she offered masses and prayers. My brother in New York called often and offered financial aid. And me? I had to take on the responsibility that no one else was equipped to handle. Before she went for chemotherapy, I took charge of getting my sister a wig.

But that’s oversimplifying things. Truth is, we all did a bit of everything. And when all was done, there still couldn’t be enough prayers. My brother-in-law’s friends from school helped him organize a special mass. I went to the miraculous shrines of Manaoag and Baclaran. My partner went to a healing priest and offered “proxy healing” for her by bringing her picture along.

We all prayed for a miracle. And, without us realizing, one was being granted to us - slowly but surely.

Last March the operation to remove the tumor was tricky. But somehow my sister did not only pull through without complication, the doctors said they managed to remove 98% of the cancer. The rest, they hoped to remove with chemotherapy.

In April, when my family did our annual Good Friday pilgrimage to Tanay, we thought we were merely there to pray. But it was through conversations with relatives (that we only see once a year) that an aunt of ours introduced us to this herbal medicine called “Himalayan Goji” that was so potent it was known to cure various diseases, including cancer. Normally we would be skeptical, but we figured it was worth a try. My sister just had her first chemo session then and was very weak from it. She decided to give Goji a try because, if anything, it had high vitamin C content. After a day, she vowed it made her stronger. And from then on, it was Goji that helped her through chemotherapy. In fact she was able to recover so quickly that within days, she was already driving her kids to school and running errands! Looking at how active she was (and of course, ehem, with the clever wig she was wearing) you wouldn’t think she had cancer.

In June, when she went for a check up, the doctors said she was improving at a dramatic pace. Can’t quite quote exactly how, but the long and the short of it was she was getting better, but she still had a few chemo sessions to go.

By July she was due for a check up that would determine if there were still any cancer cells in her body that would necessitate further chemo. Of all dates it was on her birthday, July 20, that she would get the results. We couldn’t plan any big party to celebrate. All our emotions hung in the balance. As you can imagine, further chemo was proving too taxing – physically (even with Goji to help boost her strength), emotionally and financially.

But it was inevitable. As I said, a miracle was already at work. It was in the skillful hands of my sister’s doctors. It was in the strength of my sister’s resolve. It was in that Good Friday when my aunt introduced us to Goji. It was in the way my sister’s husband took care of her and the way our family bonded and worked together. It was in the way our relatives and our friends prayed. It was in the way everyone, even the kids, stayed strong and supportive and in good spirits. Everything was pre-ordained and everything was quickly leading to something and it all pointed to one thing.

For what can spread faster than cancer, but a miracle?

And so, on her 47th birthday, after over half-a-year of battling stage 4 of the big C, my sister was diagnosed to be in good health.

Hallelujah, indeed!

Polishing

Today is our 4th anniversary, me and my life partner. It's really a big one for me, not so much because of the years, but because I can say I'm actually very happy. When I started writing this blog, I wasn't sure how personal I'd make it. But this, more than any moanings and musings on life, is as personal as it gets: I'm happy. Had our big dinner and exchanged gifts. He's busy working tonight and I decided I want to write something. But reading through my old journals, I came across this entry that I wrote in 2003 while I was still working on a project in Sydney. We were only a few months into the relationship and, as was often back then, we just had one of our "long distance fights." This is why I know I am truly happy - because after 4 years, I celebrate both the good and the bad days we've had.


OCTOBER 3, 2003

This Friday night is cold. It’s 9:15 p.m., just got out of the office, had a long day that practically started on Thursday morning. Heading back to my hotel. Hailed a cab. Rode in front. Russian driver. Big fellow in his mid forties. He had the windows down and the sunroof open.

“Mind if we close the sunroof? It’s a lovely night, but I’m not feeling well.” I was freezing.

“Ah no worries...just wanted fresh air,” the cab driver said with a thick accent.

“Sorry, had little sleep last night then went through a very long day today at work.”

“Why did you have little sleep last night?” He had a simple-guy, grandfatherly air about him.

“hahaha, long story”

“Did you go party?”

“Yeah well, sort of. Had a bit of a fight, well, sort of a fight with my loved one. Went out for a drink. Needed to blow off some steam.”

“Well, you are young, you can blow off steam”

I chuckled. “Not that young anymore, went to bed at 4 am or so, now I feel like shit for it.”

“When you are young you can go party. Me, I go party. But to celebrate my 20th er...20th..." He struggled to find the right word.

“20th Anniversary? Wow! That’s huge!”

“Yes my wife and I married 20 years”

“That’s amazing, congratulations!”

“20 years, we fight 3 times a week. Sometimes 3 times a day. But it’s good, makes the relationship interesting. If I married another girl, life would be boring.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

“We have 2 children. One grown up now. She will be starting relationship of her own.”

“I’m at the start of mine. 3 months and we already fight like this. I hate this time. I love it and hate it!”

“But fighting is good. It is what we call it... in Russia... it is polishing. It is when you have 2 hard surfaces banging at each other until it is smooth. Better that you fight because you and your girlfriend let it out, if not it will snowball. You ever go to mountains?”

“Yeah”

“It’s snowball. If you let that happen...it will explode...and kill you all! Hahaha!” He was laughing heartily. “We men, we are like boys. It takes time for women to understand. My wife, when people ask her how many children she has, she says 3! Two girls and one husband, hahaha!”

Then we turned a corner. A pretty girl crossed the road. The cab driver laughs and comments about her beautiful legs. Then he says, “But I am very lucky.” He goes on to tell me he’s going to Hobart for the anniversary. Their big day is October 8. They’ve never been to Hobart. Neither have I.

We pulled up to my hotel. I gave him a hefty tip – after all, he’s got an anniversary to celebrate. Well, I’m claiming it from my company anyway, let’s just say it’s a happy anniversary gift from my company.

“Good night and congratulations again on your 20th!”

“And good luck to you on your relationship!” Then he drove off.


I was smiling as I entered the hotel. I got into my room and sent a text message. It starts with a big “I love you.” He’s most likely in a meeting and this is coming out of nowhere so he’s probably gonna be weirded out a bit.

But I do.

I want to polish this relationship until the rough edges go away. Or maybe it won’t. But whatever happens, it will make us shine.


9:45 p.m.
Marriott Hotel
Sydney, Australia
(I flew back to Manila the next day)