In mid-June, on a Saturday night, I sat on the kitchen floor and begged God not to take Missy from me. Four days before, we learned that her pancreatic cancer had spread to her liver. After surgery in March, she was declared cancer-free, but the scan taken as she began follow-up chemo revealed that the cancer had spread into to her liver. Metastasized. She was now Stage 4. In an instant, all the pain and heartache she had been through for the last seven months meant nothing. We were back at square one, only worse.
The same day we got the diagnosis, Missy had moved into her sister’s house in Charlotte because we are having our kitchen renovated, and she needed peace and quiet, along with a stove, fridge and dishwasher – which had been removed and sat unplugged on the porch or in the garage at our house.
So, on this Saturday night, I sat on the kitchen floor of a totally unfunctional kitchen with no cabinets on the walls, and begged God until I ran out of energy and ran out of tears. We have so much more we need to do. So much more to do with family, with friends and neighbors, and so much more we want to do FOR others.
The kitchen was remarkably quiet – no appliances running – and I had a “Cool Hand Luke” moment where I waited for an answer. The answer came through the silence. It was all on Missy and me, but if we worked hard enough, God would have our backs. It brought back, or maybe came from, an expression that I have always trusted: work like it all depends on you and pray like it all depends on God. Regardless of where you stand on religion, this is true. Sweat and motivation and confidence make things happen.
The next morning, I decided to go to church where I use to go to church 10 years ago. I needed some place familiar to sort through all that had happened in the last week. This church is out in Mint Hill, about a half hour from home, but it always felt like home. When I walked in, I saw my old golfing buddies standing in the corner telling lies like they have done every Sunday for many, many years.
I know, I know. Telling lies in church.
But I believe that God grants dispensation to golfers and fishermen. Dispensation is a catholic term for cutting you some slack, giving you a break. It is most commonly used to give dispensation when St. Patrick’s Day falls on a Friday during Lent. Catholics are not supposed to eat meat on Fridays in Lent, but dispensation allows you to have some corned beef and cabbage on St. Patrick’s Day when it falls on a Friday.
I think there is a soft spot in God’s heart for golfers and fishermen because these are people who will swing a stick for hours on end trying to find golf holes or fish they cannot see. True believers if there ever were any. So maybe God sees potential in these people.
The sermon was about having complete faith in things and living that way genuinely. Not 85%, not 95%. It has to be 100%. It started out about how children can see through parents when they are not 100% committed, but it went to how we can see through ourselves too if we are not 100%. If we are not the real McCoy.
Given the revelations the night before, this all made sense. It’s all on Missy and me, but God will have our backs – if we give this 100%, if we don’t waver in our trust, confidence and commitment. If we are the real McCoy.
The expression “the Real McCoy” has a fascinating background. It relates to Elijah McCoy, an American-born African American who fled to Canada via the Underground Railroad prior to the Civil War. He returned to the United States after the war. He was educated as an engineer and had invented many products that he had patented. One of his patented items was an oil-cup to catch oil that dripped from locomotives on American railroad lines. His oil-cup was considered superior to other models and railroad engineers looking to avoid inferior copies would request it by name, inquiring if a locomotive was fitted with “the real McCoy” system.
So our marching orders were clear. We needed to be the real McCoy. To have 100% trust and faith in what we were doing despite the recent bad news. When things got tough, we needed to get tougher. We could not have slide-back days – at least not in our attitude and determination.
The thing I have learned about cancer is that the person with cancer will have slide-back days in their body. It’s a nasty disease with a mind of its own. Cancer simply defined is abnormal cell growth that accelerates and takes over things around it. Southerners know about kudzu, and cancer is like kudzu after a good rain. Chemo is like Round-Up to kudzu, an equally nasty substance that destroys things. And the two do battle – which wears a body down. If you think about the old cartoons, where there was good on one shoulder and evil on the other, each speaking into a person’s ear trying to persuade him or her, that is sort of like cancer and treatments of it. Except the chemo is nearly as awful on the body as the cancer is.
Two weeks later, we went to Wilmington to spend a week at Missy’s mom’s house, go to the beach and get a break from all the chemo, doctors, house renovation and everything that we had been through since December. Missy was still struggling with eating and keeping weight on, and after chemo three weeks in a row, her body was fried. She slept in the back of the car the whole way to Wilmington, and she could really do little more than sleep the entire week at her mom’s. We had hoped for some time on the beach and chance to relax, and we never made it to the beach. Joan, Missy’s mom, felt awful about this. A week that was supposed to be fun and relaxing, was anything but.
The next week we finally got some good news. Chemo resumed and when the blood work came back, it showed that the tumor markers had dropped in half. The next week they dropped again. After terrible news, and then a terrible vacation – and being at a point where we were really struggling to be the real McCoy – the good news fueled our faith which was bending but not broken. This, in turn, lead to Missy eating better, engaging more with people again and gaining strength in body, mind and confidence.
This pattern continued until last week. If you have been reading this blog, you know Missy blacked out last Friday in the evening heat as we went out to watch the start of the “24 Hours of Booty” bicycle event to benefit programs to support people with cancer. When we went to see the oncologist again yesterday, he was alarmed at what had happened last Friday, and while he and Missy and I believed the black out was from dehydration after the chemo last week, he ordered a brain MRI to make sure the cancer had not spread to Missy’s brain. He had recently seen where pancreatic cancer had spread to the brain in a couple of patients, and it was nagging him that this could be the same thing.
So … yesterday felt like a trip back to square one, only worse, again. Really worse. We were both terribly shaken by this unexpected turn because deep down we knew if it had spread to the brain, it was game over. I spent the night with Missy at her sister’s house and neither one of us slept well – nothing new for the last six months for both of us – but we reminded ourselves to stay strong in our faith in our doctor, our faith in each other, our faith in family and friends, and our faith in God. We had to be the real McCoy last night and today.
I worked at home today because I did not want to be in the office when word came back on the MRI. Good or bad. I asked myself if this was a sign of losing faith in everything, but I realized that being scared and losing faith are two very different things. Especially with cancer. If you’re not scared, something is wrong with you. Being scared is actually a sign of faith because there is a place you are trying to get to and that path is just uncomfortable.
Late this morning, Missy and Beth came to our house after the MRI, and called up to me in the home office, and told me that the MRI came back clean. The cancer had not spread to the brain. That it was dehydration.
Before Missy and Beth had gotten to the house, I had spent a little time this morning begging God again. Please don’t take Missy from me. There is so much more we need to do. So much more to do with family, with friends and neighbors, and so much more we want to do for others. This time he answered a little louder, a little more clearly. It’s all on you and Missy, but I will have your back … if you are the real McCoy.