Conversations with my God

i intended this post to be a short update, but it looks like it's going to be another novella. hope you bear with me and finish it to the end. i don't think you'll be disappointed.

these past 14 days or so, have seen me at my lowest point since i started this blog. the bad news actually started when i got my 'osseous metastasis' results from the mri. in my 'yoyo update' post (27 jun), i was flippant and seemed to view my condition without the seriousness it merited.

to some of you, i must have come off sounding either like an idiot, who had no idea what i was sick of, or a person in denial. i assure you i'm not in denial. i know i have cancer, and that's serious. as to being an idiot, well, i have to admit, i have my moments, but not when dealing with my condition.

i don't like to pity myself and i don't like people pitying me, so i make jokes about myself. but i realize there's no way i can stop people from pitying me. they look at me, and those who read this blog, see CANCER in bright, flashing lights shining above my head. 'what a pity. such a nice, entertaining, _______, and ________ (fill in the blanks with your favorite adjectives of me) fellow, and he's dying.'

i have this sneaky feeling, i'll be invited to less and less parties. people don't want to be reminded of death on their doorstep. this is totally normal and understandable. i'm cool with that.

but the way i see it, we're all dying from the moment we're born anyway. only thing is with my condition, i thought i knew, at least roughly, how long i had to live.

the monday before the report, my fbs (fasting blood sugar) count went to 141. that was the highest since i'd started my alt med treatment in june, higher even than my counts the 1st 2 weeks i was out of the hospital, while i was taking my hospital-issued medicines. i kept hitting high counts that week, and i didn't know why. i was sticking to my diet and my treatments. except that on certain days, i'd allow myself to get hungry and eat a lot of fruits. lots of fruits = sugar.

then on wednesday that previous week, another reminder of the proximity of death. i got word that chitong kabigting, our half-brother (one of my dad's 10 children from his 1st wife) had passed away. he was 64, but had been suffering from diabetes for years. i later learned from cecille, his daughter, that he had seemed to have just given up on life, refusing to see his friends, eating forbidden food, and later, refusing to take his medicines.

the following sunday, my brothers and i had already planned to meet at my place for merienda to celebrate 3 birthdays: our mom's birthday (26 jun), cris' birthday (29 jun), and my sister-in-law, arlene's birthday (1 jul). we just couldn't settle on a time. when saturday came around, we'd agreed we'd attend the last mass for chitong at loyola chapels before having dinner, instead of merienda.

sunday morning, i began to feel bad. after serving at the 7am mass and giving communion to the sick as is my regular sunday schedule, i decided to exercise a bit by just walking home with jeremiah. it was just an extra 15 mins walk, but i figured the sunshine would do me, and my complexion, some good.

but after breakfast, i started to feel nauseous and could hardly keep my breakfast down. i decided to lie down and slept until 11am, skipping my morning snack. i kept my scheduled appointments, but felt weak and slightly nauseous the whole day.

the next day, on cris' birthday, i ate my usual breakfast but developed diarrhea afterwards. the whole day, i didn't take solid food. for lunch, i had a glass of freshly made orange juice and another at 4pm; a glass of fresh pineapple juice at 530, and before going to bed. i even stopped taking all my medication.

i made about 7 trips to the toilet the whole day, and everything came out water.

despite that, cris and i went to the fiesta mass of sts peter & paul, and stayed for the fellowship dinner afterwards, but i didn't take a bite.

the next day, i felt better, so i had my usual fare for breakfast and lunch, tho in reduced quantities because i still felt nauseous. i took my medications again, except for one that was a laxative.

in the evening, i went to mass for La Virgen de la Rosa, the patroness of our parish. raul, the president of Cofradia dela Virgen de la Rosa, saw me and gave me a rose in honor of our Lady. all the roses were blessed by fr lito after the mass. since it was cris' birthday the previous day, i thought it would be a nice gift for her; a rose from the Blessed Mother to a mother.

despite feeling nauseous earlier, i actually ate a lot during dinner. i even finished up my daughter anne's pasta with putanesca sauce, which she purposely left for me.

the following day, wednesday, i ate my usual breakfast. but when i drank my medications, i immediately threw them up. i was nauseous. i went to bed, and tried to sleep, but i was very depressed.

it was the first time i vomited anything. i was weak and dizzy. i had started a new stage in my alt med treatment the previous saturday, and was warned i'd feel worse before i felt better again, but i didn't expect diarrhea, nausea, and bouts of depression.

my fbs that morning was 121. i weighed myself later and found i had lost about 7 lbs, down to 167. i had wanted to remain at 175 for the next 2 weeks.

i began to believe that my cancer was finally taking over. i was feeling all the symptoms; weakness, vomiting, nausea, weight loss. every little pain i felt, i attributed to my cancer. i even checked my hair until i remembered i wasn't doing chemotherapy.

i began to doubt my alt med treatment. what if it wasn't working after all? what if i should just have stuck to traditional western medicine? but that path also led to doubting my God. didn't He say He would be my Healer? what was He doing? was He doing anything at all for me? and i knew i was entering dangerous grounds. you can doubt what you're doing, you can doubt what your physician or alt med guide tells you, you can even doubt your wisdom and sanity, but when you doubt your faith and your God, what do you have left?

so after lunch, which i managed to hold down, i started doing some exercises. brief stretching and lifting some weights. and i decided to visit the the Blessed Sacrament that afternoon before going to mass.

despite the dizziness, i made myself take a shower and dress up. i walked to st andrew and went to the adoration chapel. i sat down after my opening prayers and asked Him to speak to me and to advice me. i immediately received 2 commands from Him. first, 'prepare yourself.' and second, 'I will come for you sooner than you think.'

my inner calm was shattered. as is my nature when things do not resolve themselves around me the way i want them to, i rebelled. how could my kind, generous God be so cold? i rejected the message.

'prepare yourself', was understandable and easy to accept. make myself ready spiritually for the Lord. go to confesssion. go to mass. receive the communion. pray.

but, 'I will come for you sooner than you think'? if i believed the statistics of patients in my condition, i had barely 5 months left. and He would come still sooner than i thought?

i refused the messages vehemently, but i also began to argue with myself. if i believed thatGod had told me that my treatment wasn't the critical factor; He was, because He was the Healer, how could i refuse to believe these subsequent messages i had received in the same adoration chapel, in the same pew? it would be illogical and inconsistent to disbelieve. would i believe only what i wanted to believe, and refuse whatever frightened me? would i ask Him to hold off, heal me first, and only then, come for me?

painfully, i forced myself to objectively consider the messages, especially the second. if that was God's will, i not only had no choice in the matter, but, to be true to my faith, would have to accept it willingly, gladly. it was very difficult, but what choice did i really have? i could rail about the injustice of it all. beat my breast and say, 'here i am surrendering myself totally up to You, and this is how You repay my faith and trust?'

i began to accept the messages slowly. sadly, with fear, but with a resolution that surprised even me. fine. i'll prepare myself. and i would see the Lord sooner than i thought. no more doubts. just acceptance.

i prayed to the Lord for strength to continue accepting His will in my life, or my death, as the case may be. i thanked Him for His messages. i tried my best to mean my gratitude, but it wasn't easy. i went to mass with His words heavy on my mind.

i went home and looked at my family, and managed not to be teary-eyed. i hugged my daughter briefly, but tightly. i made sure to kiss my younger sons goodnight. the older ones would find it strange should i try to kiss them at all. i was worried cris might notice my sudden tenderness. later, i would hold her and tell her i loved her.

i agonized whether to share the messages in this blog at all. after reveling in the goodness of God when He assured me He would be my Healer, how could i reveal Him going back on His word? after expressing gratitude over His benevolence, how could i tell everyone that He had withdrawn His support?

but i knew that i would have to. i had to remain truthful and consistent. if i had published His 'I am the Healer' message, i had to publish these messages too. whatever they meant to me, however hurt i felt with them, they were His messages to make known, not mine to withhold. still, it has taken me time to gather the courage to write this update.

the next morning, i was so depressed by the messages that i remained in bed, listless and feeling sorry for myself. but after lunch, i had to finally tell myself to cut it out. giving up is something that's acceptable neither to me nor to God. if He came for me, ok, i'd go, maybe not as willingly as i want to believe, but i wouldn't kick and fuss. i would be prepared and ready.

i lifted weights. that perked me up. then, i decided to visit the Blessed Sacrament again. after my opening prayers of adoration and thanks, i again sat down (not in the same pew as the last night, but in the opposite side. no, i'm not superstitious. someone was in my usual seat.) and asked God for guidance.

His voice was suddenly like thunder in my ears. “so, I am coming for you in 3 months? you know My thoughts now? you are privy to My timetable?”

if i was having a conversation with God, i'd be stammering. i was confused. 'but didn't You say You were coming sooner than i thought? and didn't i read that the mean average lifetime of someone in my condition is 5.67 months? so, i thought You'd come in 3 – 4 months because 2 months have passed since my cancer was discovered.'

God: 'did I say 5.67 months? are you able to read My mind?; in my own mind, i was on my knees cringing. 'I will come, when I will come!'

me: 'but i thought...that You had decided to take me already. i have cancer. i've started to feel weak. i vomited this morning. why would You extend my life? i can't believe You think i'm that worthy or deserving.'

God: 'I will send my graces to whom I choose, whatever graces I choose, and when I choose! My gifts do not depend on what you do, but on what I do.' by now, He must have started to take pity at my trembling figure, and His voice softened. 'you cannot make yourself deserving. you are deserving because I say you are.'

He continued: 'prepare yourself, not only spiritually, but also physically. strive to live. do not wait to die. always choose life.'

i don't remember the actual words He used anymore, but i think these convey the message i received that evening.

well, of course, i cried tears of relief. the burden of 'knowing' exactly when i would die was lifted. i wouldn't have to look at my family and think that could be the last time i would see them. i always thought it would be better to know when the moment of death would be. well, maybe not very exactly. mas o menos, is good enough.

i know i will die, maybe sooner or maybe later; but it is not for me to speculate about. it was not for me to anticipate. the Lord will take care of the matter for me.

today, 5 days later, i still feel a bit nauseous after meals. i'm still battling a bit of diarrhea. i'm weak and sluggish. but i've made up my mind to trust in my God and not to second guess Him. i can't anyway.

i've always held another view of death. if i really, really believe in God. why should i be afraid of death? i should be happy because the purpose of life is to be reunited with God, and death is nothing but being with God.

the question now is, am i a fool to talk with God the way i do? am i insane to think that God answers me back when i do talk to Him? or am i a mystic carrying on conversations with God?

actually, i'm just benjie, living life as benjie, talking and walking with the Lord.