"I was diagnosed with bone cancer in 1983, and underwent an above knee amputation and chemotherapy". This story tells of my recent struggles when the cancer relapsed.

 

Mary.

 

I sat in the small office, waiting nervously. I had been there twice before, and on both occasions I had received bad news. The last interview had been particularly awful; Mr. Grimer, the orthopedic surgeon had talked to me about treatment options available to me for the pelvic lesion I had developed when my bone cancer recurred. The most extreme option had been to extend my amputation site and to remove half of my pelvis - an option which would leave me wheelchair bound and doubly incontinent. I had quite honestly told him that I would rather die than face that, but I had agreed to consider chemotherapy in combination with radiotherapy. This option would have many unpleasant side effects, but could buy me remission time; they were not certain how much time. How badly I needed time! I had left that interview incredibly traumatized.

My cancer had recurred six months prior to that interview, in February 1999, and in that time I had undergone major surgery to remove a secondary tumor from my lung. I had then been subjected to dozens of scans and tests to determine whether the rest of my body was free from any other recurrence. Unfortunately, a bone scan had revealed a large "hot spot" within my pelvic bones. Whereas a secondary in my lung could be removed, and in isolation surgery was considered curative, a secondary within another bone was very bad news; I was told that this time the cancer had won, and my disease was "terminal".

Shortly after the pelvic lesion had been found, I developed serious symptoms from it. I had suffered from pain in my pelvis for several years, which was now attributed to the secondary. In addition I now began to sweat profusely, developed profound muscle weakness and tiredness, wheezing, and swelling around my eyes and in my mouth. I went to see my oncologist, who advised me to "do the things you have to do". So I did. I planned my funeral, rewrote my will and sorted out unfinished business. I booked my trip to Australia - I had always wanted to take my son, Adam, to see the place where he was born.

In July, I became very unwell. There were days when all I was able to do was lie beneath a shady tree and rest. I was unable to lift my baby daughter, Bethany. Cooking, washing,
Shopping were all activities that I could not manage. Richard took time off work, anticipating that I may not survive much longer. My friends began to plan how best to support my family through my demise, death and the aftermath. I set myself a goal for each week in July, so that I could make it to Australia. I began to feel that I would probably die out there or shortly before I left.

Everybody remained in a state of shock. Richard and I were totally devastated. We began to talk about how I would like the kids to be brought up, how I felt about him remarrying, where I would like to be nursed. I decided on the hospice; I made plans to visit it, to see what it was like. I started to see the palliative care doctors and talked about my darkest fears and asked the most horrible questions like "What actually happens, physically, when I die?" Throughout this initial time, I was supported mainly by my two friends; Eleanor and Nigel. I remember one day saying to Eleanor that I did not want to live much longer feeling as bad as I did; I felt so ill and I could do so little that I really wanted my suffering to be over. One day in the first weeks of July, I spoke to Nigel, who is a consultant. I told him I thought I was dying, and that maybe I wouldn't make my trip down-under. He sorted out for me to see a specialist at the hospital, who could maybe help improve my symptoms. All I wanted to do was see the Barrier Reef again.

Up until this point, many people had been praying for me, and I had been to the Elders of our church, Rhiwbina Baptist Church, to ask them to pray with me and anoint me with oil in an attempt to bring about healing. Christians believe that this is in accordance with Gods instructions which are found in the Bible; "Is anyone of you sick? He should call the Elders of the church to pray over him and anoint him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer of faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise him up." (James 5:14-15). When I became so ill, I knew that only a miracle could heal me. I spoke with one of the Elders and told him how pessimistic the news appeared. The church decided to ask the whole church to pray and fast for one day in an attempt to bring about healing. Other fellowships and churches up and down the country also took part, in particular the fellowships of Parklands and Woodlands churches in Swansea, where we had previously worshipped the Lord. I guess that there were ten thousand Christians praying over those weeks for my healing.

A few days ago after this, I went to see the specialist, Steve, who Nigel had arranged for me to see. Steve started me on some treatment that he hoped would improve my symptoms that were being caused by the substances that the tumor was releasing. Within two days I felt so much better, and I knew that God had answered my prayer in part. The horrible symptoms I was having lessened, and my pain was less. It looked like I might make it to Australia after all.

Even though I felt so much better, I knew that the cause of my illness was still there and from what the doctors knew, there was no way to cure this.
We began to pray as a family, several times a day for my healing. I met with the Elders shortly before leaving for Australia and received prayer and anointing and asked God to work a miracle. Many fellowships continued to pray for us faithfully. I certainly did feel better in myself.

I made it to Australia! I had anticipated that I would spend most of the holiday resting while Adam and Richard went off exploring together. Nothing could have been further from the truth. I felt so well that I swam every day. I went snorkeling in open water, walked further than I had for many months and had a thoroughly brilliant time. I hoped that some healing had occurred, maybe so that I could make this trip. I still had severe pain though, and I knew the tumor was still there. It was such a hard thing to say goodbye to our many good friends in Australia. I did not anticipate returning again.

I returned home thankful to the Lord that He had provided this time of good health for my trip. Shortly after my return, my symptoms began to trouble me again. The pain in particular, became much worse. The other symptoms too deteriorated again, and I was on the maximum doses of the treatment that I had been given by Steve. Soon the treatment didn't seem to be making any difference.

I began to feel despondent. I had prayed for so long for healing and I was getting worse. I felt very angry at God that he was allowing me to suffer like this. I thought that I might well put my faith in medicine. During September my pain became worse every day. One day it was awful and I began to panic. I began to get a new type of pain, which I knew was a pain originating from the nerves in my pelvis. It was unbearable. The pain escalated every hour. Finally, I rang Nigel to ask for his help, and arranged to admit me to hospital, for pain control. I was scared; I thought that this was it. Everybody else thought so. The first night I was there I needed huge amounts of morphine to get my pain under control. I was receiving so much that I began to hallucinate and have weird and frightening dreams. I did feel at peace and though that God must have decided to bring me home to him, and release me from sickness. I asked for the Elders to come in and see me at hospital. They came on the Wednesday evening and prayed really intensively, anointing me with oil as well.

On Thursday I was due to have a special MRI scan of my pelvis. This was performed and I waited anxiously for the results. I expected the scan to show that the tumor had increased in size and was spreading throughout my pelvis. Surprisingly, the scan showed that the lesion was not as large as we had expected.

After a week in hospital, it was decided to transfer me to the Bone Tumor Unit in Birmingham, I remained on large doses of pain-killers, and my other symptoms were still very unpleasant. I went over to Birmingham, and a biopsy was taken of my pelvic bones.

When I arrived home from Birmingham, I contacted as many Christian friends as possible and I asked for them to pray and fast. I knew that it was possible for God to heal me. I also knew that if He didn't chose to do this, then I trusted that He knew best for me. To be honest, at this time, I really felt that death would be a release and I knew where I was going! A week later I had to go back to Birmingham for the results. I also had another CT scan taken. The doctors at Birmingham were very concerned at this point. Their opinion was that I had secondary tumor in my pelvis that was very advanced, and that my treatment at this stage would be palliative, that is, time prolonging. The results of the biopsy had shown normal bone, but they believed they had biopsied the wrong bit! This was the day that they told me about the awful treatment options available. I went home distraught. Anyone who has seen a loved one go through chemotherapy, will understand when I say that in some ways I would rather have died than go through chemotherapy for the second time. I felt very sick on the way home, and when we reached Cardiff, I was unable to see a future at all. That night Richard and I prayed a prayer of desperation, for God to lift us out of the pit of despair that we were in. The following day, I realized that I had not had any sweats. I could hardly dare hope that something was improving. The next day was the same, and the next. My symptoms began to lessen, and my pain began to decrease.

On the fourth day the orthopedic surgeon phoned us, sounding very surprised. He told us that the CT scan had showed a shrinking of the lesion. He cancelled the repeat biopsy that I was supposed to be having and asked me to return for a special bone scan in a few weeks time. He told us that a lot of discussion was going on about the appearances on the latest CT scan, and that they were considering other diagnoses.

In the week following this I had three significant conversations. I did not tell anybody in the fellowships that were praying, that the CT scan had showed a shrinking of the tumor, but I received three prophecies from very mature Christians. Each of them had been told very clearly by God that I was being healed. I waited to see what would happen. I felt stronger each day, and I could see that my appearance was changing. I just looked healthier. People began to comment on how well I was looking. I began to do things that I had not done for months; I went swimming, took care of the children, cooked meals and sang with the church worship group again.

Despite the general improvement, I did not feel particularly great about things. I had been given so many different pieces of information that I had lost the ability to trust. The most I thought that I could hope for was a tumor that was smaller and more amenable to treatment. I dreaded the possibility of having active treatment, and I spent a lot of time preoccupied with thinking about the side-effects of treatment; contemplating hair loss, sickness, undergoing an early menopause and the very real possibility of dying from major complications. It seemed too much to cope with. I also knew about the permanent side-effects of radiotherapy, and the thought of chronic illness filled me with misery.
"Haven't I been through enough, God?" I asked. "It just doesn't seem fair that I have to go through more."
In my anger I turned away from relying on God and I tried to look for other ways. I was desperate for a way out. I started to drink a lot of alcohol and I made a little fantasy world, where I could escape to. I was pretty easy to do this, as I was still on strong painkillers. My mood was very low, and my relationships began to suffer. I felt angry and resentful a lot of the time. Spiritually, my peace with the Lord was also being eroded. One night I hit a bit of an all time low. I went out, got horribly drunk and did a lot of really destructive things. I just wanted to shout and scream and stamp my feet. I was so fed up with the whole business of being ill, having tests and living with uncertainty and threat.

The following day I awoke with a bad hangover and a feeling of utter despair. I opened my Bible and read through the words of Psalm 91, a Psalm I always read when situations seem hopeless.

"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High, will rest in the shadow of the Almighty", I read. And at the end "I will deliver him and honour him. With long life will I satisfy him and show him my salvation."

I realized from these words that I would find only rest, if I dwelt in His shelter. I needed to put the stupid things I was doing behind me, and turn back to trusting God. I repented of drinking heavily and wrecking my relationships with others, and I turned back to Him to help me.

The Sunday after this I went to church and heard a preacher from Florida speaking. He shared accounts with us of people that he had seen cured of various cancers and terminal illnesses after putting their faith and trust in God. They had been healed in a time of spiritual revival at their church, when they had seen the Spirit of God sweep through their city and change lives dramatically. He told us that we had to put our lives right before we could expect to see God's Spirit move in power. At the end of the service I went forward and asked God to cleanse me and change my heart from anger to acceptance, and then I went and asked for prayer and anointing for healing. I did not feel anything incredible, just a deep inner peace and certainty that I was on God's hands.

Over the next week, several things happened. Richard (who is a doctor) started a new consultant job, we started to look for new homes and I was asked to apply for a job that seemed manageable for me. I very much felt that God was speaking to me about new beginnings and the future. On the following Sunday I went over to visit my friends at Parklands Evangelical Church in Swansea. I met with their Elders for prayer and I was given another prophecy from Scripture, which spoke of the future; "My plans are to prosper you, and not to harm you; plans to give you a hope and a future." (Jer. 29:11).

On the Tuesday I met once again with the Elders from my own church and once again received prayer and anointing for healing. I was convinced that God was at work in my life. It was by this time three weeks since I had experienced any symptoms or severe pain. I had cut down my medication from being on ten different drugs, including three types of strong painkillers, to just one painkiller and the anti-depressant that I had been on for several years.

After the session of prayer, a good friend of mine asked me if there was anything that I needed to put right in my life; she knew that I had a vital bone scan the following day. There were two things that I felt were wrong in my life; one of which involved making an apology to one of my friends. I put the things right as best as I could. I knew that the day of the scan was a really important step in my Christian journey. Many people had committed to praying and fasting on the day of the scan, and I believed that I had done everything I needed to. My life was clean, I had faith that I could be healed and I had done as the word of God told me - I had gone to the Elders for prayer and anointing.

Eleanor, one of my Christian friends, and I arrived in Birmingham. I can honestly say that it is the only time that I have felt completely unconcerned about an investigation. I received an injection of radioactive isotope, and arranged to come back to have my bone scans taken several hours later. Normally at this stage I would feel ill, tired and anxious, but Eleanor and I just had a great time; we laughed and laughed for two hours. I went back for the bone scan, which involved lying still under a special camera. I knew that things were looking good when the radiographer asked me where the lesion was meant to be! We headed back to see the doctors at the Bone Tumor unit, having sneaked a little look at the scan pictures. I'm no expert at reading scans, but I certainly couldn't see much.

Ellie and I reassured each other all the way back;
"Maybe there is something that I have missed. I don't want to get my hopes up." I told Ellie. So we found ourselves sitting back in the poky office where the story began.

The doctors entered the office, with big smiles on their faces. They looked at me in disbelief, and sat down. The room was silent and I waited for Mr. Grimer to begin.

"Have you seen these scans?" he asked.
Not wishing to be caught sneaking a look at my films, I hedged my bets.

"Mmm, yes; but only a quick glance."
"What do you think?" he asked. I felt a little like a med student again.
"Well I'm not great at scans, but I couldn't see much."
"There is nothing on them," Mr. Grimer told me, with a huge grin on his face. Nothing! The lesion has gone completely."

There was a silence as I took this in. My heart rate increased, and I felt a huge wave of peace and warmth wash over me.
"We are totally unable to explain these results," he continued. "We just cannot understand what has happened. Can you?"
Ellie and I had chatted over how to react to this question.
"Well, I am a Christian, and I believe that God can heal people. We have been praying for healing." I hesitated slightly, unsure of being laughed out of the room. "I think that it is a miracle."

Another silence as Mr. Grimer, one of the world's authorities on bone tumors looked straight at me, and very definitely said, "Yes, I'll buy that."
Both of these eminent doctors just kept on looking at me, shaking their heads in disbelief.
"You are a new woman," Dr. Spooner, the oncologist said. "Have you had any of the other symptoms?"
"No they all stopped about three weeks ago." I explained.
"And the pain has also gradually decreased too. I feel great, really strong and well."
"Well, you look great," he agreed. "Your whole appearance is different; your posture is straight, your eyes are bright. You look completely different to a few months ago."
Mr. Grimer continued the conversation:
"Basically, we have done nothing to you and you have recovered from what we fad decided was a terminal illness." He couldn't stop smiling.
"Could you have been wrong about the diagnosis?" I asked, knowing that there had been some discussion about alternatives.
"No Mary, Mr. Grimer told me. "We thought about other things, but basically, nothing else fitted. When you were referred here, everybody was extremely concerned about you. Prof. Mason and Dr. Schmidt both thought, given the severity of your symptoms, the level of pain and all the previous results that you were dying. To be honest we agreed with them."
"We thought that we would come here today and see a very different picture," continued Dr. Spooner. "We expected to see a very ill lady, not someone who is a picture of health. We are stunned."

"Nothing explains the differences in the two bone scans," admitted Mr. Grimer. "On one you had a very active lesion that was typical of a bone secondary; on this there is nothing."
"It couldn't have been a fracture?" I asked, desperate to be convinced.
"No," Mr. Grimer shook his head for emphasis. "A fracture would not heal like this, so quickly and completely, nor would it explain the other symptoms disappearing or the pain resolving. You are in a category of your own; completely unexplainable. Secondaries don't do this!"

"How about my own category being miracles?" I asked.
"If you like," he agreed. "I guess the amazing thing is that you are better, and we don't need to see you again!"

"Your prognosis has just gone from being terminal, to having had a curative procedure for a solitary lung secondary, which is now history. We just need to keep a careful eye on you in future".

They shook my hand and walked out, still looking completely dazed.

Ellie and I flew home that night and sang all the way. We kept looking at each other and asking if it was all true, and then we just laughed. Although everybody had prayed for healing, now that it had happened in such an amazing way, it was hard to believe. That night I slept my first night without dreaming about cancer. I woke up with a song of praise in my heart, and I am still singing. It feels a bit like I was sitting on death row, and somebody has just opened those heavy doors and let me out.

I don't know what God plans in the future for me. Maybe I will never get sick again and live to be ninety. Maybe God has healed me for a time, until I've completed His purposes in my life. I don't know, but it doesn't matter. I have learnt that I can trust Him "even unto death".

So I believe in God

Not a God who sits on a cloud, shaking His head at us when we get things wrong.
I believe in a God of miracles.
I believe in a God who cares about me, about every aspect of my life.
I believe in a God who knows our hurts and despair and who cries with us when we feel pain.
I believe in a God who came to earth in the form of a man named Jesus, who felt pain too, even unto death, but who trusted in a father who could overcome the finality of the grave.
I believe in a God who is alive and who still moves in power by His Spirit; who can heal and save us.
In short, I believe in a God who changes lives.

Would I change things for even one moment? If I could trade the God I have come to know for perfect health? If I could swap places with you, and duck out of the pain and hardship? If I could exchange the tears and uncertainty for an easy life? Would I do this? No! For I have caught a glimpse of eternity. I have seen a vision of a power greater than anything earthly on offer. I have caught sight of a being that eclipses and dwarfs us, and makes us appear as grasshoppers.

He is alive
His Name is God
His name is Love

A True Story of An Amazing Miracle

By

Mary Self

Bible Baptist Church Malta