It began ten years ago. A persistent feeling of tiredness led me to the doctor. Blood tests revealed an abnormality which was eventually diagnosed as ‘monoclonal gamopathy of undetermined significance’. A bit of a mouthful more commonly abbreviated to MGUS. (Yes, Fergus has MGUS!) As it stood there was no immediate cause for alarm but there was a possibility that this could develop into Multiple Myeloma, a blood cancer. I had never heard of this but subsequent reading and online surfing revealed how serious this could be. To put it as simply as possible there was ‘bad stuff’ in my blood that could lead to bone deterioration, kidney failure along with other unpleasant symptoms.
There followed three monthly visits to the clinic to monitor my blood. Eventually there was a movement along the spectrum from MGUS to Smouldering Myeloma until last year an MRI scan revealed bone lesions in my pelvis and sternum. During this ten year period I experienced very few symptoms. In fact, my physical fitness was at a high level with frequent visits to the gym and the same high level of satisfaction in my ministry. There was also the marriage of my son Stephen to his English rose Mary and the subsequent birth of our first grandson Busby. The news of the advancement of the disease, then, was a shock.
Just before Christmas 2017 it was decided that treatment had to begin with infusions of a drug called Zometa which it was hoped would strengthen the bones against any further deterioration. (Whenever I put ‘Zometa’ in my diary it looked as though I had an assignation with a being from a distant planet!) Chemotherapy was postponed for the time being. It was not envisaged that the Zometa would come with any significant side-effects but I felt myself slowing down, visits to the gym became less frequent and my treasured early morning start to the day became a memory.
The ‘Watch and Wait’ approach over that year became frustrating. What were they waiting for? Over the years I had accumulated a number of stories of people who eventually developed catastrophic symptoms. If there was a way to avoid that surely it should be taken? This was a lesson in trusting the judgement of those who knew better and who had been such a support to me over the years. When the time came in January this year there was no longer any doubt that the treatment should begin.
It is early days yet. I have two chemotherapy treatments a week along with a daily drug regime. The immediate side-effects have been sleep disturbance and a kind of ‘spaced out’ feeling. It is strange to be at the other end of the caring relationship. I’m used to visiting people undergoing cancer treatment and seeking to bring the encouragements of the Gospel to them without really knowing how they are feeling in that moment. If in the providence of God I come through this time there will be a whole new depth to my pastoral work, a very welcome side-effect.
This is the thing. We all want to avoid suffering and Scripture tells us this is a sign of a world gone wrong. But there can be so many positive outcomes. Think of Paul and his ‘thorn’: 2 Corinthians 12: 7-10. What about Peter and the refining process: 1 Peter 1: 3-9? And Jesus on the Cross achieving the greatest good for humankind in a tortured body.
Suffering is a mystery but there enough hints in God’s Word to assure us that whatever we go through falls within the overarching good God is working out for His creation. I can’t stay away from Romans 8 these days. Here’s verse 18: ‘I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.‘
