There is Hope
By Beverly Reinertson
Have you ever had to wait a day or several days for the results of a medical test? How did you spend the time? In fear? Much anxiety? Scared spitless? My story is just such a situation.
My local doctor strongly urged me to have a colonoscopy, having heard a little about my family history along those lines. Spring was too busy and so was June.
So on July 21, 2005, a Thursday, I had the procedure. I ended up staying in the hospital overnight. And what a night it was. Every two to three hours, someone would come in, wake me and ask if I were having pain.
I’d told them to start with I had no pain. Of course, my blood pressure was taken as well as all the things they want to know in the middle of the night. (I’d had no symptoms, just a family history.)
Family history: My mother’s sister was diagnosed with colon cancer at age 44 and lived to 46. My brother, whom my doctor knew, was diagnosed with colon cancer at age 40 and lived to 46. Plus, my dad had colon cancer removed at age 46 and again in his mid-80s. He lived to 89. Both his sisters had colon cancers removed successfully in their later years. So, at age 73, it was perhaps time for my colonoscopy. I almost forgot to mention. I had a squamous cell carcinoma removed from the back of my head about 10 years ago.
On Friday, after learning what the test revealed, the surgeon came to tell me. There was an egg-sized tumor in the upper area of my colon which should be removed. There also appeared to be some liver involvement.
Since this is the diagnosis they gave my brother, it surely sounded like a death sentence to me. I needed more tests, though. The ACT scan and ultrasound were “inconclusive,” so a PET scan was scheduled. That could be done the following Wednesday.
After telling us what was found, my doctor went on to explain that, after the surgery, we would talk about oncologists and possible treatments.
At this point, I must tell you that my husband, Vern, and I agreed to put this situation into the hands of our Lord. We were rewarded with a wonderful peace of mind throughout the whole thing.
I’d find myself getting scared from time to time but then remember the Scripture a good friend had sent me: “I will not forsake you nor leave you,” from both Old and New Testaments. As soon as I concentrated on that, the fear left and my feeling was that, whatever happened, it would be God’s will, and who could argue with that? So the waits were not stressful, and we were ready for anything.
I had to wait two days after the PET scan but went into the surgeon’s office without a qualm. After I waited for him to appear, he said, “Your PET scan showed no cancer.”
I sat there with my mouth hanging open. Wow! None anywhere!
So we decided on a date for surgery (after all, the tumor was very large), which was to be Aug. 10, a Wednesday.
We continued our prayers, and during this time (about 20 days), I began to pile glyconutrients into my diet. I’d heard of a man who had experienced the drying up of a Stage 4 cancer after doing this and figured this is how I’d cooperate with God. I added the bulk powders to tomato juice “toddies.” I consumed much more than usual.
When Aug. 10 arrived and I was all decked out in my gown, the surgeon came by for a chat. I asked him if he found the tumor had shrunk. He interrupted me to say they never shrink. If anything, they grow.
Well, I wanted to know if he would be able to take a shorter piece of colon rather than the standard 5 percent he’d mentioned earlier. He said they took that much out (and apparently we have plenty to spare) and then cut into that section to see what the thing looked like.
After the surgery, which he had said would take from I to 2 hours, he came out to talk to Vern before the one hour was up. He said everything went perfectly, and the tumor was the size of a quarter.
I was wheeled into my room with extra gear such as a pump to keep water from the ice chips from going into my stomach and on through (no food by mouth for three or four days), as well as oxygen into my nose and a tube into my spine for pain relief. I wasn’t expecting all that.
Anyhow, every morning I felt better than the night before, and every evening I felt better than in the morning. I was truly blessed all the way through. I stayed till Monday morning. When the doctor came in that morning, I was dressed to go home. He looked a little surprised but determined there was no reason I couldn’t leave. Happy day.
The next day, I was playing bridge, as usual.
I learned the importance of really believing God’s word, accepting it and living by it. I am more aware of what is truly important … and so thankful.
And it doesn’t hurt to cooperate with Him. The glycotechnology available today is worth looking into.
Even if there is no question that you need further treatment (chemo, etc.), it has been shown that you will get more good from it and fewer of the undesirable side effects.
UPDATE MARCH 1, 2009:
With a family history of cancer and after having a squamous cell carcinoma removed from the back of her head 10 years earlier, Beverly had a tumor removed from her colon that turned out benign.
Beverly still hasn’t missed a bridge game. “Unbelievable is what it was (her tumor shrinking). We have been busy making the Hazard school into a fellowship hall. We’ve spent quite a bit of time volunteering out there. That takes time and has been very satisfying. It’s been good to get to know the people in an entirely different way from how you got to know them from being in the congregation.”
Tags: Beverly Reinertson
