»

Sunday, December 24, 2017

My Journey With Cancer - Part 8

December 24, 2017 – Visual Effects

“I hate what this disease is doing to my body.”

Those words were spoken by me to Kay this week after I looked into the mirror at what was happening to my body. She commented that in all of years of marriage she had never seen, especially my arms and upper body, look like they do now.

I have always been one who has taken pride in taking care of my physical body. At nearly the age of 50, I rode my bike the entire 500 miles of the Blue Ridge Parkway, keeping up with, and on the highest climb on the hottest day, beating men much younger than me to the top. I have never been a tobacco user. I have never used any illicit drugs. I have never abused, or come close to abusing, alcohol. I have always been the one who worked hard, went to the gym regularly, exercised, and watched my diet (well, usually watched my diet, there is that chocolate thing. J)

I was the one whom everyone said, looked ten year younger than my age. They always looked shocked to learn my age.

Until now.

It hurts to look in the mirror and see what this disease has done to age me in the past 6-months. It hurts deeply, far deeper than I can express in mere words. Yet, there it is staring me in the face.

Research tells me that with no surgery, I have a 5% chance of surviving 12-months. History with other patients says I have at least a 25% chance of seeing the 5-year mark following the surgery.

How am I to cope? Quite simply, as N. T. Wright would put it, I hope in the resurrection. I hope in the fact that God will ultimately redeem ALL of his creation – of which I am a part. I hope in the hope (expectation) of a new incorruptible body. I choose to hope in the same hope Paul wrote to the church in Corinth in the second of his surviving letters to them.

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. ~ 2 Corinthians 4:16 – 5:1

The metaphor is incredibly comforting. I say this at every funeral I perform. This body is a “tent.” A tent is a temporary dwelling. We look forward to our “building.” A building is a permanent structure. God has prepared for us a permanent dwelling. We do not know what it will be like, but we will not be disappointed. John wrote in his first letter,

. . . what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when Christ appears, we shall be like him. ~ 1 John 3:2

I am not surrendering by any means. As Kay said to me, “You will just have to get through this surgery and build your body back up.”

That is my immediate goal.

On this Christmas Eve, as I prepare to preach to my congregations about the hope that comes with the incarnation, my long range hope is far greater. 

Sunday, December 17, 2017

My Journey With Cancer - Part 7

December 17, 2017 – Storms

For over 40 years in ministry I have made the same quote in various messages. It goes like this:
God never promised we would miss the storm. He only promised we would make the harbor.

Over the years I have had hundreds of former church members tell me what that quote meant to them. I have had so many actually quote my words verbatim back to me to thank me for being an encouragement to them. Since this ordeal began, I have received many cards from members where I served who heard that quote who wrote it in a card they mailed to me, asking that it  mean as much to me as it has to  them through the years. It was not a sermon to me, as many are, it was sharing a blessing they received from me, in hopes returning the blessing to me.


At a former church a gifted water-color artist presented me with an original painting of that quote, over a ship in the midst of a storm. That piece of art work has been moved to every office I have had in the 25 years since she gave it to me. It will now move from one of my current offices, to be displayed in my bedroom as a reminder over the upcoming year.

Thursday, December 14, 2017

My Journey With Cancer - Part 6

December 14, 2017 – Concert Tickets


I have seen most all of the great classic rock bands of my era. One that I have missed, and regret it big time, is the Eagles. Well, even though Glen Frey died last year (which hurt a lot!) I just purchased tickets for Kay and me to see the Eagles next summer here in Pittsburgh. I will be going bald, no beard, ugly as snot – but I plan to attend! Glen Frey’s son is filling in for him, so that will lessen the missing somewhat. 

I am excited to have that on my calendar - cancer or not.

Wednesday, December 13, 2017

My Journey With Cancer - Part 5

December 11, 2017 – Surgery Date Selection

So, why did I put off such a needed and serious surgery for a month? I could say, “It is complicated.” And I would be right. It is indeed multi-faceted.

At my initial meeting with the surgeon he said to me, “So I guess this is your busiest time of the year?” “Yes,” I replied, “There is a lot going on in both churches and the other business. A lot of folks depend upon me. Even though any of us are replaceable, I was hoping I could hold off on surgery until after the holiday, and perhaps after the first of the year.”

His reply was, “This tumor has been growing inside of you for years. Three more weeks will not make that much of a difference.”

And so it was, when we met the scheduler we chose January 9, 2018.

There is another side to this. A week ago, prior to meeting the surgeon I was at breakfast with a friend of mine who was telling me I need to let all of the church and ministry stuff go and take care of myself. My reply to him was, “I have been serving and helping people since I was 15. That is closing in on 50 years of ministry. I’m telling you, that switch does not exist inside of me. I cannot turn it off. The best I can do is to learn to manage it.”

I have now 3+ weeks to get things in order. I am scheduling 8-weeks of supply preachers at my churches, and getting some serious and major issues in line at the non-profit. If I get some of these things completed and in order, I will be able to disengage during the surgery and recovery, trust the good staff I have, and focus on my healing. I will not be able to turn it off, but I will be more able to cut back and relax while others do their part.


“Know thyself.” Someone said that once.

Monday, December 11, 2017

My Journey With Cancer - Part 4

December 11, 2017 – First Surgeon Visit

Today was a big day. January 9, 2018 will be D-Day.

This morning Kay and I had the first visit with my surgeon. It will not be my last. We learned quite a bit today. Some of it left us a bit off kilter. Some of it was just what we anticipated.
The surgeon who will perform my surgery was a great find. I became connected to him through a friend. He is older and seasoned. He has seen this exact type of cancer countless times. He spoke honestly and with clarity. He did not cut any corners but clearly laid out – even drawing on paper – exactly what would happen and what we can anticipate. It is not a pretty picture. However it is not as bleak as it could be.

In 2010 when my wife was diagnosed with Triple Negative Breast Cancer, we learned that not all breast cancers are created equal. Today we learned that not all Pancreatic Cancers are either.
We learned today that less than 20% of pancreatic cancer patients are able to have my surgery. Most of them simply have the difficult conversation that it is inoperable. That is not the case with me. But when you learn what all is involved, you may think it is! J Actually, we just had a “different difficult discussion.”  I am in the 20% that can have surgery it appears, so this shows that God was gracious.
Kay and I entered the room thinking that perhaps the tumor was sitting on the head of the pancreas. We learned that the last test showed that not to be the case. It actually was in the pancreas itself. That changes everything, and is not good news. While we had hopes the tumor could simply be removed from the pancreas, it will require something much more invasive.

My surgical procedure goes by the name of the Whipple Method, named for the MD who pioneered it. My entire digestive tract is about to be altered. I would not advise looking it up. Just sayin’ . . .
The surgery will begin with the implanting of a port in my upper spine that will be used for the next 5-days to release pain medications. Following that I will be sedated and they will begin with a laparoscopic procedure to look around inside my abdomen and assure themselves that the cancer has indeed not spread. If they find it has, they will close me up and forego the procedure. There would be no reason to attempt the surgery if that is the case.

If all is clear, I will have an incision that will run from the last rib on the left side of my body to the last rib on the right side of my body. That is about 10 – 12 inches in length. Kay told me that my bikini days are now over! I will have one hellacious scar to show off though!
Once inside me they will remove the front half of my pancreas, the lower tenth of my stomach, my gall bladder, all duct work that connects them to my small intestine, and the upper part of my small intestine called the duodenum. All this time they must avoid two major arteries that run though the center of the body.  This part of the surgery will take 3 – 4 hours.

The second half of the surgery will require moving part of the remaining lower intestine upward and then attaching the liver, the remaining stomach, and the remaining pancreas directly to this portion of the small intestine. There are many enzyme producing glands that must have their tubes connected so things can function. This is another 3 – 4 hour procedure. It is all quite involved and fraught with possibilities for complications.

Following the 6 – 8 hour surgery I will be in intensive care for a couple of days, depending upon how my body responds. I will be hospitalized for 7 – 21 days, again depending on how my body responds and accepts the new attachments. The type of tissue the various organs are made off will determine how well that goes. Evidently, each person’s body has different “textures” in their organs. Who knew?

If the body heals as anticipated and I avoid infection I will be discharged home. I will be out of commission for close to two months I am told. It will be longer than that before my stamina returns. It is amazing how quickly your body loses its stamina following surgery. I will learn patience.

If all goes well with the recovery, I will follow this up with 4 – 6 months of chemotherapy to extricate any remaining microscopic cancer cells. Losing what hair I have left is no fun prospect. Losing my beard is even less so. My chin has not seen sunshine since 1988. I will be one more ugly cancer specimen!

I started this post with an analogy. I called today a big day, and January 9th as D-Day. That was intentional. D-Day, or the Normandy Invasion, was the beginning of the Allies onslaught to defeat the Third Reich and the German army. It was bloody. It was gruesome. It was painful. It carried a tremendous loss of life. It was well thought out and planned. It was followed by the campaign that ultimately defeated the Axis powers, and led to victory. For me, January 9, 2018 will be that same event. It will be bloody, painful, and gruesome. (Hopefully there will be no loss of life!) Our plans are that it will begin the campaign that will defeat cancer in our family for a second time.

What are the odds that a husband and a wife would both have cancer (albeit completely different types,) undergo surgery, chemotherapy and (planned for me anyway) recovery? I guess it’s too late to purchase that lottery ticket, huh?

Friends, God is good – ALL the time!


Next post I will explain a bit how we chose our surgery date. Stay tuned.

Sunday, December 10, 2017

My Journey With Cancer - Part 3

December 9, 2017 - Perspective

Whenever we face a tough issue in our life (and I have had my share - some of them will come out in the upcoming weeks) our perspective on that situation can be everything. Below is how I introduced to my social media connection what is taking place in my life. This is not a new perspective for me. Ask anyone who has known me for longer than 6-weeks and they can tell you this is how I approach life and have approached life. 

Anyway here is what I wrote. I'll get back to my regular posting tomorrow.

“All - I have recently begun a long and difficult journey. In the past week I have been diagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer. I do not intend to write in depth about it on Facebook, but I do intend to publicly journal my family and my journey. If you wish to keep up, it will be posted on my web page. It can be reached via terrylmann.com or matrixminister.com. Both take you to the same place. Feel free to share with anyone you deem appropriate. I have made the two initial posts and will begin adding more regularly. I will make a notation here when a new post is up.
You will not read me whining about how difficult it is, but I do not intend to hide difficulties. I have helped people for 50 years now. If I am going through something such as this, I intend it it to help others.

Friends . . . no matter what happens in this struggle, God is good . . . all the time. God's goodness is not bound in my good health or lack thereof. God's goodness is not tied to any circumstance I may experience. I have lived in faith since my early teen years, and will do so until I breathe my last.”

Saturday, December 09, 2017

My Journey With Cancer - Part 2

December 6, 2017 - Purpose
So, before I write any more posts on this topic let me answer the question, “Why I am writing and recording this?” Three reasons come to mind.
    1. It is a way to keep folks informed without having to restate time and time again, all that has/is going on.
    2. I can let everyone know what I am really feeling / thinking in the moment. In so doing, it will require me to think it through.
    3. This can serve as a record of my journey.

Like I referenced above, this is not our family’s first foray into the cancer battle. In 2010 my wife was diagnosed with Triple Negative Breast Cancer. She fought a valiant fight, and is cancer free today. I kept an ongoing log of her journey on the site Caring Bridge and posted links on social media. You can read that here https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/kaymann as it is still online. I learned three things from writing that.
   1. It helped people who genuinely wanted to know what was going on to keep informed. It allowed them an insight into the journey. I was thanked so often by folks for keeping that information updated.
   2. Even today, after having bound copies printed, it serves as our record of what we endured.
   3. It was therapeutic for me to write it.

The goals are quite similar. I imagine the outcomes will be too. The biggest difference is this one is in first person. 

My Journey With Cancer - Part 1

December 5, 2017 – Unwelcomed Guest

I am by nature a social person. Having people around is my life blood. I am energized by it. Therefore, over the years and still today, my calendar is littered with times together with friends, business associates, family, young men I have mentored, concerts, you name it I may  have done it with friends – well,  within reason.

Each of those events occurred because of an invitation. It is a desire to be with someone so one of us invited the other to get together.

In the past few days I have learned that another uninvited visitor has entered my household. This guest has arrived without warning, and without any invitation. The guest arrived again even though he had been here once before, only to be kicked out of the house as an unwelcome guest.

That guest is cancer.

Wednesday, October 04, 2017

Tom Petty

Very few celebrity deaths hit as hard as the news of Tom Petty. This is really a tough one. The fact that he was only three years older than me makes it most real. I have seen him in concert 10-15 times with multiple different groups of friends, and totally different opening acts. He always held nothing back and left everything on the stage. When he would say "Thank you," to the audience following a song, you could tell he really meant it. I saw him multiple times with my daughter Lori Beth. This summer my grandson Gavin saw him with us for the first time and was amazed at how good the show was, how many songs he knew, and how many different ones there were. There is a complete irony there in that he would die on Gavin's birthday. I always drive home after work listening to music or a podcast. Yesterday, I drove in silence, feeling the music had died. I felt the same when Glen Frey died, I am thankful for having enjoyed his music through the years and saddened I will not see him again.

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Presence

I left my favorite conference today to visit a gracious 93-yr old lady nearing the end of her life. The best decision of my day.

I held this dear gracious ladies hand, prayed several times with her, attempted to serve communion at her request (she was unable to swallow any elements,) and just spoke words of comfort. When I prayed for her to have peace, she repeated several times, "Yes dear Lord, grant me peace." She thanked me for stopping by and seeing her at least 50 times. I have never have I been thanked so profusely for doing seemingly so little. I hugged her, and kissed her when I left, and she cried tears of thank you. 


NEVER doubt the impact of your PRESENCE in the life of another. Your words may matter little and will probably be quickly forgotten, but your presence will not be forgotten.