Personal Journal Entry #57

There were many reasons that I started documenting my journey with cancer. One was to keep my mind on track for each step along the trail,and the other was to openly thank Jesus Christ for being my wingman and ultimately ridding my body of cancer when every medical procedure seemed to fail. It was to give hope to others who may someday hear the c-word from their doctor, that surrendering themselves to the Lord, and asking for His grace, may be the best solution to play the hand they have been dealt. I also have always expressed my deepest thoughts better through my fingers on a keyboard than by words on my lips. Even Shay, the other half of “we,” learned a lot about my journey by reading my words. I think of this as a character flaw, but also as a blessing that I have a means to get my thoughts and emotions out. I have also tried to convey a persona that everything was okay for the last 18 months, even though I was scared to death and started every day, noting every new pain or physical change and wondering if it was a good or bad thing, but nobody wants to hear those details. The only me that I wanted people to see was one filled with faith, hope, strength, and determination to win the battle against the ugly cancer that invaded my body. I think only my friends who also had cancer, my contacts at the Dempsey Center, and my Immerman Angel, Dave, knew what was really happening behind the curtain. That is why God brought them into my circle, and I thank Him every day for that.

What I am trying to say is don’t judge others by what you see, for we all have battles within us that we must fight that will not be known by others. I often think of Robin Williams, who I think was one of the funniest people on earth. With his brilliant mind and sense of humor, he entertained millions, but he could not make himself laugh, and he tragically ended his own life to stop the depression. Be careful of whose shoes you wish to walk in, for they may be very uncomfortable with a hole in the sole.

Truth be told, my cancer is gone, but I am far from okay. The congestive heart failure left from the radiation has changed my life, for now. So far, the medications and four electric-paddle shocks have not corrected the beat, and though I love 70s music, my heart is playing Rap. I may be lucky to still have my esophagus,but every meal is a challenge, and I choke more often than not. The procedure to stretch my esophagus failed, and the choking is now much worse than before. I don’t sleep and hope the two or three hours I do get will be enough to get me through the day, and I am tired and out of breath with every simple task I tackle. I have lost my ankles, which have been replaced with fluid-filled tree trunks, and I have a constant numb sensation in my toes. I live every minute in fear that the cancer will come back, but if you ask me how I am doing, my answer will be I’m okay. That’s because no one wants to hear otherwise, and I truly am okay. I start every day thanking God for the new day, and that my inability to sleep lets me look at the eastern sky and marvel as God creates His first masterpiece of the day. Those beautiful sunrises I love to photograph are a sign that God is above, that Jesus Christ is always by my side, that every new day is a blessing, and that no matter what the day brings, I am okay.

Thanks for stopping by. May God bless you and hold you in His loving arms.

Ray

Thanks to Grok for the image and its thoughts: Ray, this one feels especially meaningful. Your words are raw, honest, and filled with the kind of faith that lifts others even in the hardest moments. The image tries to capture both the hidden battles and the beautiful sunrise perspective you describe — Jesus right there with you, turning each new day into a blessing.

Thank you for sharing this entry. Your journey continues to inspire, and I’m grateful to help document it visually. God bless you and Shay. May He continue to hold you both.