Thanks be to God*

Every time we survivors are scheduled for tests, we wait for the results with bated breath---literally waiting to exhale. Now I can sigh with relief.

My annual PET (positron emission tomography) scan took a new twist this time with the addition of a CT (computed tomography) scan. In August 2008, the doctor recommended a repeat CT scan of the chest after six months, to follow up on the status of my lungs where a suspicious nodule was earlier found.

February was so busy but I finally had my PET-CT scan on March 11. Today, March 13 (Dana’s 10^th birthday), I read the results and find that I am good--cancer-free as of March 11, 2009. What a precious, precious day it is!

The Lord has truly blessed me, and I am ever grateful. I thank Almighty God for this bonus time to live, love, learn and laugh…to be alive and still be wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, volunteer and worker-in-the-vineyard.

Every day is indeed a gift. Every breath, a miracle. Only by God’s grace and mercy can I claim good health, and continue living in the service of my fellowmen.

For my family and for those who have journeyed with us since 2004 when cancer first touched our lives, it is always a good time to celebrate and give thanks. We do so daily and with medical affirmation of God’s abiding faithfulness, we give praise again and again!

As one of my favorite mass songs goes (Pass It On): “That’s how it is with God’s love, once you’ve experienced it, you’ll spread His love to everyone, you want to pass it on…I’ll shout it from the mountain top, I want the world to know, the Lord of love has come to me, I want to pass it on.”

Pass the good news on!

Our never-ending thanks to Lord Almighty, maker of all that is seen and unseen!

*First posted on 13 March 2009 on http://carla1.multiply.com

Evidence of Providence

“No evidence of hypermetabolic malignant disease from the head to the midthigh.”

The first sentence of the Interpretation and Recommendation section of my latest PET (Positron Emission Tomography) scan was, to our family, evidence of Providence (God’s protective care).

It is only by God’s steadfast love and generous mercy that we have come this far—counting 1,286 days since I was diagnosed. And for this ‘extra’ time, we are ever grateful.

It was only fitting that on the day the PET scan results came out, we had a family meeting in which we decided to articulate our purpose for being together—and being given all this extra time. We all committed to a family VMV (vision, mission, and values) so that we can be guided in our actions inside and outside the home.

Two weeks ago, we met and asked ourselves what each member thought was the purpose our family (mission). We asked what kind of family we want to become (vision). And to describe our values, we asked what things we like about our family (continue), what things we don’t like about our family (avoid/stop/change), and what things we want our family to do or be (start).

Each member wrote his/her answer on sheets of paper—one sheet per answer per member. Some even drew their answers. I consolidated 20 sheets of paper into a family VMV statement and we happened to meet again on the day we got my PET scan results.

We really cannot claim to have accomplished anything. We just signed a sheet of paper to formalize our agreement to our family VMV. We will have to come back to this sheet of paper often to make sure we are living our values, fulfilling our mission, and getting closer to our vision. We will also have to review this sheet of paper to make sure it is current because our VMV may change as our members mature.

There is still so much we want to do together. We certainly feel God’s abiding love for us each time we are together. 

But we have long accepted that when we cannot be together, God remains with each of us—that we may walk courageously toward His purpose for our lives.

Sison Family VMV 2008

The first thousand days

I mark my 1,000th day as a breast cancer survivor today, May 27, 2007.

It’s just amazing…I never really thought I’d reach this far into the journey. 

Though I visualize daily cradling my grandchildren in my arms, there is always within me that resignation, or more of acceptance—that the future is uncertain, and there are no guarantees for and of tomorrow. 

I only have today…and for the first thousand days of my journey I have been living each ‘today’ to the best that I can—often with gusto, but sometimes with dread/fear/trembling and spiked every now and then with bouts of depression. 

The most important thing to me is that I have been miraculously gifted with this time to be with my family. The kids are growing up so quickly, and we try to make the most of each day—fulfilling the purposes for which we were created: mine to be grateful, and theirs to show me how to be grateful. 

The Lord blessed me recently with a family reunion—my siblings and I finally all got together, after two decades or more of not seeing one another. It was such a treat. And now we’re planning a big reunion to include nieces and nephews and grandchildren in December 2009. I intend to still be alive by then. 

And the greatest blessing yet in recent days: My youngest sister was spared from an unfavorable diagnosis. An excision biopsy of two lumps in her breast showed a benign or harmless growth, “consistent with fatty tissue.” Praise God Almighty!

Truly the Lord is watching us all closely as we mature in our faith. And Blessed Virgin Mary, our Mother, is the most humble Help of all Christians in this earthly pilgrimage.

I pray for at least another thousand days of life, love and laughter. My hope rests in God’s mercy. Let me be ready when it’s time. Let me be ready all the time.

Number one

I graduated today with the degree Master of Business Administration (MBA) from the University of the Philippines (UP), ranked first in our class of 70 students. At the College of Business Administration commencement rites, my family went onstage with me when I received a certificate of recognition as well as a medal engraved with the words “TOP MBA”.

Two and a half years ago, I dreamt simply to finish my MBA. I had worked so hard---burning the midnight oil so-to-speak---just to keep up with class requirements while working full time. Sidetracked by Stage 3C breast cancer, I had to stop school and was eventually left behind by my original batch, the UP MBA Class of 2006. 

I returned to night school after six months of treatment with full hope of finally getting back to my normal routine. But I was diagnosed again for Stage 4 breast cancer in the middle of my first trimester back from cancer treatment. I decided to continue studying even as I underwent new treatment, completing six cycles of chemotherapy by the second trimester. 

A month ago, our program director had told a few students I was ranked first in our class. I didn’t believe the news right away. I wondered how that could happen and felt that somehow there was a mistake somewhere. I still didn’t have grades for two subjects (four units), and if I got anything lower than 1.0, my grade point average would certainly come out lower and I could slip in the rankings. 

Woman of little faith…I should have known God is so gracious—in fact, way too much gracious to the doubting Thomas that I was. He can never be outdone in generosity. 

I got two 1.25’s for those remaining subjects, and I ended up with a general average of 1.1905, still good for the top spot. 

This is a most incredible miracle, God’s genuine gift to His least expecting servant. I have truly found my purpose: it is simply to be grateful for the many different lives the Lord has given me. 

The life of a daughter, sister, wife, and mother. The life of a dentist, newspaper reporter, stockbroker, and writer. The life of a high school valedictorian, university student paper editor, creative writing fellow, and MBA graduate. The life of a breast cancer survivor, volunteer, speaker, and friend.

The lives I have been given may not always be the ones I would have chosen…but I will certainly make the most of all the time I still have.

I will never tire of thanking my donors, all 100+ of you out there, helping me and other beneficiaries of www.ourownlittleway.org, and the amazing women of www.icanserve.net. 

My graduation from MBA school was made possible because you chose to donate to my treatment fund in God’s perfect time. You are an indispensable part of the miracle God crafts for my family each day. I thank God Almighty continuously for letting you all touch my life in a very special way. 

As human beings, we cannot do anything that will add to or subtract from the greatness and glory of God. But whatever we do adds to or subtracts from the happiness in this world. And the beauty of this world witnesses daily to God’s overwhelming love for us.

You have certainly added to the beauty and happiness of our little family’s world. We know we will never be able to repay your kindness. But may the Good Lord repay you on our behalf in daily blessings, and daily love. 

Today I was recognized as number one, and I offer back to God this honor He has graciously granted to me. We all know that God is the real number one. It is indeed a great thing that to Him, we His children are.

Living on a pray’r (for all the world may care)

Holy Thursday, Good Friday. Two days, two deaths. One (T.V.) was a dear, dear friend from ICANSERVE Foundation (www.icanserve.net); the other (T.L.) was the mother of my husband’s best friend from college. Both battled cancer, both fought valiantly. And when the time came, they both bid adieu peacefully and in God’s grace.

Since my last test (February 2, 2006), I have gone to seven doctors seeking advice on the right course of action for that lone lesion found on my neck. It is too small for treatment says six of seven doctors. Only one wants me to undergo another course of chemotherapy, which would be my third in as many years. I have decided to leave this one to God Almighty…literally living on a pray’r. I am on monthly observation to ensure any changes in the lesion could be checked. 

I am currently on antibiotics for UTI (urinary tract infection). I had no symptoms. I was diagnosed after the routine urinalysis that was part of the annual physical exam for the office. On my fourth day on antibiotics, I started having blood in my urine. On the sixth day, I started bleeding. There was no pain nor difficulty in peeing. Just a lot of blood. My antibiotic regimen, which was supposed to be for seven days, was extended for another seven days. 

It’s so easy to take this whole UTI episode for granted. But on Good Friday, we learned that T.L. had died from UTI. There were no symptoms and when the infection eventually became manifest, it was too late. She had completed chemotherapy and radiation last year but her immune system had not been able to recover. Her white blood cell count was much nearer to zero than low normal. She could not fight the UTI even with the strongest dose of antibiotics in a hospital ICU (intensive care unit). I had to check my own blood counts, which praise God were all in the low normal range. 

Sometime during my roll of doctors’ consultations, the website (www.ourownlittleway.org) that helped me raise funds for my treatment started helping its second beneficiary, also a cancer patient in PGH. I thank especially my donors who have found it in their hearts to also help Jenelyn, a 21-year old Dean’s lister in La Consolacion College (Caloocan) who holds much promise to make the world a better place.

After helping Jenelyn reach out to donors, and in between finding out about my UTI and the two deaths, I was in a vehicular accident. I was driving, nobody was hurt. My vehicle needs repair, and an FX taxi driver is visiting me at home to make me pay for his day’s damages. 

I sometimes rue the fact that people with cancer (like myself) seem to treat everything else as unimportant. We are just so grateful to be alive that we try to live each day in sincere thanksgiving for the many blessings of the Lord. But the world has a knack for yelling at us when we start living in an almost dream-world, where just being able to breathe in the morning is absolutely good and true. Like an FX taxi smashing into the vehicle you’re driving, the world shrieks into your ears: you still have bills to pay; the children’s tuition for next school year is due in a few days; there are plenty of people who need your helping; now you have a vehicle to repair; and don’t forget you still have UTI!

I just happened to submit a feature for a Sunday magazine about a healing priest, who quoted to me another healing priest who called death “perfect healing”. For at death we enter the fullness of life, where there is no illness, no pain, no suffering. With this perspective, I celebrate the perfect healing of T.V. and T.L. They are indeed my new allies in heaven.

Still, I cling on to dear life. Perfect healing is not so attractive to a wife and mother of growing children. I will take up my cross, Lord; fight my illness, withstand my pain, embrace my suffering; pay the bills, earn for my children’s tuition, help as many people as I can, have the car repaired and drink antibiotics for UTI. 

I am definitely most grateful for this life---and accept all the aches and pains and troublesome things that come with it. For my joy remains in seeing my husband and children smile, hearing their laughter, feeling their hugs and kisses---and smiling, laughing, hugging and kissing them back for all the world may care.

Suffer the little children

I was recently (Oct. 15, 2005) interviewed on ABS-CBN News Channel (ANC) along with ICANSERVE sister Bibeth Orteza and Ms. Marisa Lopa of ABS-CBN Publishing.

At that interview, I was asked about how the family members were coping with my illness. 

I related to the hosts that on the way to the studio for the interview, I was powdering my face using compact pressed powder when my daughter Dana, 6 years old, asked that she too use the powder. I told her, the powder was for older ladies and that she will get to use one when she reaches high school or even sixth grade (she’s in first grade).

Then she blurted out, “E patay ka na nu’n” (“But you’ll be dead by then”). I felt a knife stab my chest. Still, I started to probe where that comment came from. Why did Dana say such a thing? And she started to cry saying she was just afraid I will die.

It is so painful to see my little one trying to accept the reality that maybe, just maybe, her “beautiful mother” will not live the next five years to see her reach high school or even sixth grade.

Gino, 10 years old, was furious at his little sister saying she’s worrying too much because Mama will not die yet. 

Like I shared at Silver Linings, I cannot dwell on these thoughts of my children too much because I really cannot bear the burden of trying to manage even their personal issues. Just as I have my own lessons to learn, the children must learn their own lessons in this experience we are going through.

Being in the new, normal of undergoing a second round of treatment via oral chemotherapy somehow made me a bit complacent that the children are handling our situation well enough. The bare truth is that they are just as scared as they were in the beginning when cancer first entered our conscious reality at home. 

I may be indifferent to death now, but my children’s fear of losing me has never really gone away—just pushed back from conscious memory and it comes out every so often in the most startling ways. This is what happened when Dana expressed the belief that I could already be dead by the time she reaches high school.

Today, I try to reassure the children constantly that death may be a stark possibility, but God’s help is always a certainty. They will always have all the love and caring they could wish for, whether their mom is physically present or not. 

Who am I trying to convince: them or me? 

I beg you: Please pray for our little family, especially for Gino and Dana. Grappling with cancer is such a tough reality.

Chemo-Round 2

On July 11, 2005, during the first PET scan to monitor treatment progress, new cancer lesions were found on my lymph nodes (neck, hip, groin) and left ribs. The medical oncologist declared my condition a Stage IV (meaning the cancer has spread from the original site [breast] to other locations) and recommended a new round of chemotherapy.

I went for a second opinion. The doc ordered more tests (MRI, CT scan) and the results are encouraging because the physical manifestations of the cancer lesions are hardly noticeable, which means they are only beginning or have not grown enough to produce a big physical lump. Nonetheless, this second doc also recommends chemotherapy due to my medical history (advanced stage breast cancer involving lymph nodes, blood vessels and muscle of the breast).

I went for a third opinion and again this doctor recommended chemotherapy, but the oral type, because my veins have not sufficiently recovered from the six cycles I had last year. Hopefully, this approach will allow me to continue as many of my day-to-day activities as I can (work, school, family life, exercise, social commitments).

I must admit that the prospect of a new round of chemotherapy terrified me but I decided I would go through it all again gladly for the sake of my children. I pray only to be brave.

I know God is in control, but it is so tempting to be weak and ungrateful. I have to believe that I also deserve to live life fully...and that God wants me to live fully, too.

Though I know in my heart that I am ready to die any moment I am called, I am also ready to live battling cancer, if that be God's will. It's just so hard to understand where He is leading me, where He wants me to go.

Steve Jobs says you can only connect the dots in hindsight. I trust one day I will have that chance to connect the dots in my life and say "AHA"! Meanwhile, I trust in God's infinite grace and mercy.

I begin six cycles of oral chemotherapy this week. The schedule is for me to take the medicine for two weeks (four tablets in the morning, four at night) and then be off the medicine for one week. That’s one cycle. And then I repeat until the sixth.

I thank God for all my donors. I am confident that the funds I have received and continue to receive will sustain my treatments until the battle is won. 

I thank God for the additional financial help recently given by my boss and by my fellow survivors, cancer-stricken sisters who feel for me so deeply that they continually reach out to help though they themselves are in treatment or have barely escaped death themselves. Experiencing such love and caring would make any life worth living.

Thank you for your steadfast support and your unwavering love.