A Greek
philosopher, Heraclitus, once said, “No man ever steps in the same river twice,
for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.” The current is constantly changing direction,
the river’s edge and floor are altered with every ebb and flow. The water is clear and you can see the life
flowing inside of it, until a storm comes and makes the water murky, hiding the
life that you’re sure was there before.
Standing on the river’s edge, as you step in, realize that no matter how
much it looks the same to you on the outside, it has changed.
The same is
true of cancer. A cancer by any other
name is not the same. Neither can you
get the same cancer twice. On May 2nd,
2013 I was diagnosed with Stage IV, inoperable Adenoid Cystic Carcinoma, with a
tumor the size of a large plum invading my sinus cavity. I was about to be thrown into a river that I
didn’t feel like swimming. It had what
appeared to be Class 4 rapids, and I was told to hold on for dear life. I put my helmet on (otherwise known as my
radiation mask), got my hydration pack (otherwise known as my IV) and held on
for dear life as I roared down the polluted river (otherwise known as chemo).
Much to my
surprise, when I jumped in, I was caught in the arms of my loving savior. I didn’t have to hold my breath any
longer. I didn’t have to do it
alone. The fear that I felt when I was thrown into
the river and told “You have cancer,” was now replaced with faith the He would
carry me through it. The murky waters,
filled with chemo and radiation, were slowly clearing as treatment progressed to
show the life that I still had inside of me. The tumor was shrinking and my
faith was growing. The ups and downs of treatment may have changed
the landscape of my life, just like the flowing water changed the river’s edge,
but trusting in His power to heal gave me new life.
No longer
did the Class 4 rapids (or Stage IV diagnosis) scare me. HE was my raft, and as I rode the waves, my
eyes were opened to see the beauty around me. The journey
down the river wasn’t easy, but it was a trip worth taking. The landscape of my life, the people around
me, my purpose, my passion, and even my routines were all changed because of
ACC. He used cancer to change me from
the inside out. Fear had been replaced
with faith. Pain had been replaced with
joy. Boredom had been replaced with
purpose. I had been given a chance at
life once more, and it was to be used for His glory.
May 2nd,
2014 is when my passion was ignited and turned into purpose. That was the one year anniversary of my
diagnosis, and also the day I discovered Relay For Life of Lake Travis. I took over a dying event and gave it new
life, just like He did for me. The next
two years I spent as Event Chair, where our events raised almost $200,000 for
The American Cancer Society. My story
was noticed and I am honored to also be a Hero of Hope and MD Anderson Proton
Therapy Advocacy Alliance spokesperson, sharing my story of hope and faith with
others facing cancer.
January 23rd,
2015 I was told that I had no evidence of disease. The river currents were steady and calm, the
waters clear and life was flowing through it.
I had beaten the odds. I got off
the raft and began to go about my life.
I was alive and determined to live my best life. Until…
March 29th,
2016 was the day I heard three little words.
They weren’t those same nastythree little words I heard on May 2nd,
2013. You know the ones, “You have
cancer.” This time the response was the
same, but the words were different. I
got the call from my doctor, who simply said, “It’s Adenoid Cystic.” I had
been thrown in the river once more. This
river had the same name, but looked totally different. Rather than an inoperable, plum size tumor in
my head, it was an operable 7.5 cm tumor in my liver (no fruit comparisons were
made this time). Lack of mobility in my
jaw (from my first tumor) would surely complicate anesthesia. Suddenly the fear that I had after my first
(much more complicated and dire) diagnosis, had returned with a vengeance. This time I felt like I was drowning.
A relatively
uncomplicated surgery (other than the whole problem with keeping me alive and
breathing), suddenly scared me. The
momentary fears (like missing important milestones in my daughter’s lives) that
I experienced the first time, were consuming me. I wondered if I could once again beat Adenoid
Cystic Carcinoma. I was afraid of dying
on the operating table. I contemplated
writing life letters to my daughters.
Birthday cards to closest friends (Terry and Shelly) were filled with
heartfelt sentiments that they needed to hear in case they were the last ones I
would send. I was worried. Had my purpose been fulfilled to His
completion?
I felt
myself sinking in the murky waters. I
could feel the silt of the river’s floor.
I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t
feel his arms catching me…until I did. Jeremiah 29:13 “You will seek me and find me when you seek
me with all your heart.” I had an “
a-ha” moment. I had let life interrupt
my relationship with my Lord. I didn’t understand
why I was so scared, until I realized that I had gotten out of step with
Him. Bible study fell to the way side,
replaced by other things, which I thought were important and what He wanted me
to do. But I let my need to do things,
interrupt His need to do things in my life.
I hadn’t been seeking Him out in my daily life, so I left an opening for
fear and anxiety to take over. Suddenly,
once I realized the reason for my fear, the verses I clung so dearly to the
first time, started to pop into my head, and I felt Him slowly lifting me up
out of the water, breathing new life into me once more.
Philippians 4:13 I can do all things through Christ who
strengthens me
Philippians 4:6-7 Do not be anxious
about anything, but in everything, through prayer and supplication, with
thanksgiving, present your requests to God.
And the peace that transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts
and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Hebrews 11:1 Now faith is being sure of what we hope for
and certain of what we do not see.
May 2nd,
2016 was the 3 year anniversary of my initial diagnosis. It was the two year anniversary of my first
Relay For Life. It is my best friend’s
birthday. And May 2nd, 2016
was pre-op for my May 9th liver surgery. God’s
hand is clearly playing out in my life and these dates are no coincidence. It was before my pre-op that I prayed for
the Lord to take my fear, and it was during one of those appointments that I
literally felt that fear leave my body.
I didn’t
write those letters to my daughters.
There was no need now. I knew
that He had me in His arms. I would ride
out these currents with my head above the water. No helmet, no hydration pack. No fear, no
anxiety. I came out of surgery with
flying colors. The 7.5” tumor was completely removed. I have recovered beyond expectation once
more. The lymph nodes were clear. Ten weeks out from surgery and you would never
know, short of the 7” scar (part of my new landscape) that is disappearing just
like my first tumor did. Last week I was
once again told I had no evidence of disease.
Adenoid
Cystic Carcinoma is my river. Twice I’ve
been diagnosed with Stage IV ACC and twice I rode the rapids and came out on
the other side. Three years ago tomorrow
I completed treatment for my first bout with cancer. That cancer, while it had the same name, was very
different. I was also very
different. But one thing that never
changed and never faltered is His place in my journey. He was always there,
guiding me, even when I didn’t know it; even through all the rapids. Yes,
it’s true. “No man ever steps in the
same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.”
-Cathleen McBurney 7/25/16
NOTE: Three years ago today 7/26/16, I completed my last treatment for my first bout with cancer. 10 weeks ago yesterday, at the time of writing this blog, I had my surgery for my second bout with cancer.
