TWENTY FOUR

Two of the people in the Bible that I admire and relate to most are Job and Paul. When I say I relate to them, I must clarify, as truly these were righteous individuals that on that level I have nothing in common with. In Job’s case, he was a righteous man that G-d had blessed in every way. Satan declares that if his blessings were removed, he’d soon reject G-d. To prove Job’s faithfulness to Him, G-d allows the Devil to afflict Job in every way short of killing him. Job’s children are all killed along with all his cattle, and he becomes completely diseased. Even his wife advises him to ‘curse G-d and die’! Job can’t understand his punishment, but he stays true and faithful and is rewarded by G-d with new sons and daughters, healing, and even more cattle than before.

    Paul, real name Shaul, but there is no greek letter for “sh” so he got translated in English as Paul, also suffered greatly. Some pastors teach that he changed his name from Saul to Paul when he switched from Jewish to Christian but this is unlikely. He lived and died as a Jew. Paul was an unlikely choice to become the author of much of the New Testament. After all, he used to persecute Christians. The story of his coming to know Yeshua is amazing, even when compared to my experience. He was struck blind! He may not have had all my illnesses, but he was whipped almost to death more than once, spent years in jail and became shipwrecked and bit by a poisonous snake. It’s all in the Book of Acts.

    In Job’s case, Satan caused his problems but G-d allowed them. Paul’s tsuris basically arose from his being a ‘Jew for Jesus’, spreading the Good News of Jesus. We know that all good things are from G-d. Illness and disease are not G-d’s will or plan, but the result of living in a sinful fallen world, or even from direct demonic involvement. In my case perhaps G-d allows Satan to torment me for leaving his kingdom in favor of the

His kingdom. Perhaps G-d wants to strengthen my faith through my health issues. I’m no Job, and far from a Paul. I’ve planted no churches, and endured little persecution for my beliefs.

    Each time I have an operation, as I begin to grow stronger, I find that I tend to revert to old ways. Once I’m on my feet I become less dependent on G-d and trying to make it on my own strength. I begin to not read the Bible every day, and allow sinful thoughts and desires to resurface. How crazy is that? It’s that darn human nature, the sin nature, that doesn’t want to roll over and play dead. This present operation, however, had a much longer recovery period than the earlier ones. At first I had no appetite at all, and swallowing pills made me nauseous. After a couple of weeks my appetite thankfully returned, and I embarked on my ‘eat whatever you want’ diet. The greatest challenge was walking. I was told to get out of bed a few times a day and walk around our apartment. Sounds easy, but it was easier said than done. 

    My wife and daughter now had to work full-time in my place, and so no one was there to check on me. Some days I wouldn’t get up at all except to pee and I didn’t even have to do that, having been supplied with a 'pishy cup' by the hospital. And when I say ‘get out of bed’, I mean leave my comfy perch on the couch where I’m enjoying 150-channel cable TV. While I did eventually get some gelatin desert at the hospital, their TV system was terrible and unwatchable. At home I treated myself to a new HD flat screen and soundbar, and I hated getting up for any reason. But I knew I had to move my body once in a while, so forced myself for a little walk through the kitchen, and up the stairs to the bedrooms at least once a day anyway.

        After a few weeks I was excited to actually walk about fifty feet to the mailbox and back, and from then on attempted this amazing feat daily. Slowly I extended this until at the two-month mark I was ready to walk around the block. This turned out to be fraught with danger, however, as half way through this hike a friendly yet menacing dog started running towards me and then horror of horrors jumping up on me. I could only take tiny steps and there was no way to run or fight the beast off. I’m afraid of dogs anyway and have no idea why most people like them. I realize that women need them for protection, but it just escapes me how anyone can have affection for them, or choose a dog for a pet rather than a nice cat or three. Of course I was in no real danger as its mistress was there in the yard as well. But the few seconds in between her assuming I’d like her dog and my yelling “help, help!” were moments of sheer horror for me.

        My next goal was walking halfway to church, then all the way, then finally being able to drive again, and at three months I was ready to go back to work. That summer my wife and I had a romantic getaway to wine country for a few days. Among the sexy photos we took was one of me in the Jacuzzi showing off my new skinny body, that was posted on-line for a couple of days to the delight of some of the ladies on the meso board I’m led to believe, then disappeared. After that we flew to New York for my dad’s 90^th birthday party, where I got drunk for the first time since the operation. I was back!

        We’d been wanting to move, having lived in our apartment for 10 years or more. Diana thought that we wouldn’t be able to in my condition. But my health improved to the point that moving was possible and on Thanksgiving we moved to a new house, with all new appliances and a large yard. I don’t mean to suggest that I was now in perfect health. Even if the mesothelioma was now taking a back seat while it regrouped, I still had symptoms of leukemia (such as lack of energy, tiring easily), and some scar tissue pain. I tried growing vegetables in the yard, something I hadn’t attempted since 1973, but weed killer had kind of temporarily killed the yard, and I had trouble bending down and tending to the little plants that did grow. Even pushing the seeds into the soil tired me out quickly. Still I was able to walk the 4.5 miles to work, once. I never tried it again, but I set a new goal of riding my bicycle to work, a goal I never accomplished.

        Every time I’ve tried to get into an exercise regime, either on my own or a gym, some part of my body or another starts to hurt and puts a damper on it. I know we’re supposed to push ourselves through the pain, and I tried, but with difficulty. Still, I was working and getting in some walking, accepting that I would tire early in the day and would enjoy my rest time with our satellite dish. Now there were hundreds of stations to watch! I guess I was born to sit! I was now no longer able to stand all day at work either. Well, if relax I must, so be it. After dragging myself out of bed in the morning, and showering, there was energy to last at least until mid-afternoon. I tried to extend my 'good' hours by committing myself to the local community radio station twice a week, and my Bible study once a week and for the most part this worked.

        Two years since my last CT-scan and MRI, I thought that I’d better check on things. I was told that meso always grows back and I was definitely growing more tired during this time, and had various undefined aches and pains that came and went. But things still looked pretty good other than a couple of tiny lesions and of course the tumor in my head was still there, but no larger. Breathing a sigh of relief and congratulating myself and thanking G-d for having stayed alive this long, life went on.

        That summer I finally finished work on my CD and pressed up 1000 copies or so. I sent out review and play copies to various radio stations and record stores, but because I was so busy at work I never finished the job. It was just a vanity thing anyway, and I felt I’d accomplished a lot just getting it done. Plans to do a CD release party fell through as one and then another band member moved out of the area in search of more work. I think I sold two copies on Amazon and one on CD Baby, all to relatives. Maybe I wasn’t born to be a Rock star after all, and I’m kind of glad to be spared the temptations of the road. My flesh is weak. The album is a pop-punk-rockabilly-country collection of original secular songs, with a hidden doo-wop track and one Christian song, “My Kingdom Paradise”. One of those days a couple of years ago when I was particularly low and feeling sorry for myself, G-d gave me that song to show me how wonderful Heaven was going to be. There was no pain there, only love, and everyone would be my friend. I was not to worry even about my loved ones I was leaving behind; they’d meet me there soon enough.

        By the end of the year, the familiar pain and burning of a hernia returned and I had the other side operated on. Once again a substantial amount of mesothelioma was discovered and a CT-scan 6 months after the last one showed a number of problems. At this point I was urged to have the debulking operation once again. The surgeon in Baltimore said that based on the scan, he was willing to operate, but required a set of intravenous chemo first. I found a surgeon quite a bit closer to home, but he too wanted me to do chemo. He said that there was really no way to tell what was going on inside my abdomen without actually opening it up and taking a look. On the way home I pretty much decided that I wanted to avoid both the intravenous chemo and the operation, preferring to try and strengthen what was still left of my fragile immune system.

   Next I back on the sorenifib pills, plus a ton of herb pills, plus smoothies and dmso. I tried taking apricot pits although my herbalist says that only helps 1 in 100 people. But I hoped I'd be that one. My energy level grew worse, I lost the ability to run, and my walking speed slowed down to a crawl. Even just standing up has become a task, and most of my time is now spent sitting or lying down. My last few CT-scans have been dismal, and I have finally gone on intravenous chemotherapy. I was rushed to the hospital and almost died of pneumonia. Once again, G-d came to my rescue, and I was discharged after only three days, much to the surprise of the doctors, staff, and even my wife who all expected me to pass away that first night. 

    The chemo seems to be keeping the meso, which had spread considerably, in check for now. I'm hoping that I can stay alive long enough for a cure to hit the market. I’ve certainly gained in faith and trust in G-d whatever I may have lost in physical health. G-d’s Paradise sounds better every passing day. Am I a picture of Jesus today? Sadly, not yet. But He will transform me on the day I go home; He died on the cross for my sins. I have no doubt about it. 

The children's song declares "Jesus loves me, this I know". And if He loves me, you can rest assured that whoever you are He also loves you. The Bible says, “If G-d is for us, who can be against us?”. I don’t have the command of language or poetry to impress upon you how much G-d loves each one of us. All I know is, if anyone will just accept His free gift of forgiveness of sin through the sacrifice of His Son on the Cross, that one will live forever in a blissful paradise. Jesus said, “No one comes to the Father except by me”. This is the only way, but praise G-d that He made a way. “Praise the L-rd, who works all things for the good to those that love Him”.