Restoration is a process. It’s almost three years since I’ve had a stem cell transplant, and I am doing great! Today, I just want you to know that God remains faithful and can be trusted in all circumstances. After I was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia in December 2021, my survival chances looked bleak… But God! Today, I want to show you where I’ve been and where I am now.
Jeremiah 30:17 “But I will restore you to health and heal your wounds.”
My son asked me right after my diagnosis, “Mom, you always said that lack of forgiveness, bitterness, anger and the like causes cancer. Have you inspected your heart?” Well, that’s our son. He never beats around the bush. So, I responded that he was right and would certainly make time to inspect my heart.
Not too long ago, I woke up just past 4 AM and gave blood to the “vampires.” Soon afterwards, I had some quiet time with the Lord. I asked him what caused this disease in my body? It didn’t take long before Proverbs 17:22 popped up in my mind. I looked it up, and what can I say? Proverbs 17:22 tells us, “A merry heart does good like a medicine: but a broken spirit makes the bones sick.” So there it was written, the undeniable truth. After a few more words of discussion, it became clear to me that my wound was brought on by sorrow.
I can’t deny that our small family was overwhelmed by loss and sorrow during the past few years. Yet, we didn’t do anything wrong. All we ever did was pay the sacrifice of love for those we loved. Yet, things just got more difficult every year.
I lost my mom – an indescribable wound, a darling father-in-law under our care, and still, my mother-in-law is in the grips of an ugly disease. I won’t even go to the loss of my pets. They were my joys, but many of them died too. As far as I know, life is not fair, and the road of true love is filled with sacrifices and sorrow. However, love is never selfish, nor does it put its own interest first. Therefore, given a choice, I would probably do it again because we were taught that nothing is more important than love.
Today though, I’ve learned it’s ok to let go. To not be strong always. To completely surrender my sorrow to my King and allow him to heal my heart. It would be best if you did it too. Carrying grief or sorrow make us sick in the end, then you are forced to let it go anyway. So don’t be unnecessary strong at times. Be vulnerable too.
“Your wound is probably not your fault, but your healing is your responsibility.” Shraddha
I’ve promised before that I would write more about my pyjama drama. After being admitted to the hospital in Windhoek and being told that I would have to be flown to Cape Town, I realized that I didn’t have enough pyjamas for the trip. So, I asked my husband to buy me some extra pyjamas. Logical wonder hero that he is, he got me beautiful blue butterfly sleepwear… 3 pairs of the same pyjamas! Well, he did exactly what I asked and surprised me with my companion, ‘Gilfy’, which means miracle in Norse. Gilfy has been close to me through this whole ordeal and keeps me warm at night.
After putting up my peripherally inserted central catheter (PICC) line, it became clear that my sleepwear was impractical. A PICC line is a thin, flexible tube inserted into a vein in the upper arm and guided (threaded) into a large vein above the right side of the heart called the superior vena cava to give intravenous fluids, blood transfusions, chemotherapy, and other drugs. This is why I am so grateful that my friend Carmelita jumped in came up with a design that was practical enough for me to slip in and out of the sleepwear without having to bypass the PICC line and “drunk cyber buddy.” After all, it was precarious already.
Since I’ve been immune-compromised by all the chemotherapy, I cannot receive visitors. My doctors have graciously allowed my husband and son to visit me daily over the festive season. However, they had to take turns per day. Only on Christmas day, they were allowed to come in together to share gifts and some time with me. Some of my colleagues and friends did not let this restriction stop them from visiting me though. They visited me via my bedroom window, which looks out onto the parking lot. Thank you to each one of you for lightening up my dark days. You were simply amazing.
Next time more on the angels without wings…
A friend of mine asked me the other day, “Have you asked yourself why you?” I pondered the thought and concluded, “Why not me?” The world has been thrown into disarray and chaos for the past few years – many lives lost, much sorrow, injustices, and the like. We can all pretend and continue to hold on to our perfect little ideal worlds or face reality and admit that we live in strange, dark times. It seems highly unlikely that what we once thought exemplary lives apply anymore. These unprecedented times taught us that no one is exempted from the harsh cruelties of life. We can either continue to build our sandcastles or adapt to a new reality where love in action is the only option to remain human, survive and thrive. The fact remains that terrible things happen to everyone, regardless of whether they are deserved or undeserved. There’s sickness, diseases, disasters, etc., everywhere in the world. I decided that if this is a journey for me to walk, I will walk it and carry a torch for my King Jesus because I know that this sickness is not from him. I am not angry; I don’t feel rejected or condemned or the like. I will use this experience to light the path, even if it is just one person whose life I can positively influence.
Besides… it’s a catwalk thing
My colleagues decided that if I do this journey… I might as well do it on the Catwalk! You won’t believe the offers I’ve received on wigs already! My friend Grace already sent me one. I will still decide on wearing it, though. Many others, including family members, offered to go bold with me. In the meantime, I’ve first reduced my locks to a shorter fit, and then I shaved it all off. In this place, everything is about hygiene because the patients are all immune-compromised. So, a bold head is just the thing. It’s easier and convenient.
It’s worth it
Do you know that there is power in names? Every time you say someone’s name, you speak a reality, a truth, something about them over them. My name is derived from a line of Norah’s… Irish Celtic history and all that, I guess. It simply means light and honour. My dad decided he liked the modern Noreen version more, yet the same meaning. Our names carry power. We often live up to them without knowing it either. I can honestly say that I always seek out light and try to find honour in a situation.
This is why I like this scripture so much: Philippians 2:9-11 NIV
Therefore, God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.
Everything else has a name too… Like AML leukaemia. Fortunately, it too must take a bow before the king. So, I tell my uninvited visitor that he would have to go. He cannot claim a home that already has an owner. And this one has.
Of course, there is the heartbeat too…
My son sent me a selfie at midnight to say he loves me. I needed to hear it at that moment. Therefore, I believe in the end; this journey will all be worth it.
You shall eat yourself well…
On top of the many things that take place in a cancer ward… They certainly make sure of one thing… They feed you! And if you usually think that’s ok, trust me, the chemo dictates differently. At this point, it feels more like force-feeding.
On the first day, a dietician came to see me and lovely as she was, she crushed my spirit with all the no this, no that, no this, etc. I must be on a neutropenic diet, basically a no bacteria diet, to avoid infections at all costs. So, when my Namibian heart heard, “No biltong, droewors, cheese, sushi, etc.” I wanted to cry.
Nevertheless, I must maintain a specific weight so that the chemo impact that will follow doesn’t reduce my frame too much. The thing is, you get hungry, but you have no taste for food. The struggle is real.
I am currently on 66 kg, and for my age, height, and frame, I must not go below 60 kg in the next few weeks. Who thought keeping weight up would be an issue? I’ve been through chemo already and eating became a chore. The food is tasteless. So, days you have a spark of a taste, the next there’s nothing. Below is force-feeding food and the scale… my nemesis. I must weigh myself every morning. If I dropped 0.5 kg, it’s an issue.
The question so many asks me…
“Did you shave your hair?” For the record, my hubby did, and it’s freeing, liberating, and above all hygienic in a very sterile place. I might rock this GI Jane look for a while too.
What I do want to point out, though, is that very few ask the relevant questions like, “How are you doing keeping food in or force-feeding yourself” or the daily struggle with needles, support medicines, antibiotics, etc. Patients who fight various cancers have more serious concerns than hair. Trust me. Most of us don’t care about it at all. A few days ago, my veins fell flat, and they couldn’t get a simple drip in. During chemo, a cortisone drug they used spiked my sugar levels, and I had to experience the sad reality of finger pricking that people with diabetes do daily.
I share pictures of my bold look, my arm full of holes, my tummy blue due to anti-clotting meds and my force-feeding juice. This is the actual fight – not a hairless head as a symbol or status. I want everyone to know and respect the truth.
On Friday afternoon, I was flown out of Windhoek to Cape Town via a medical charter plane. It was indeed a turbulent ride due to the rainy weather in Windhoek at the time, but we made it safe and sound. I was admitted to the Kuilsriver Netcare Hospital: Hematology and Bone Marrow Transplant facility – in short, the ward of angels in my books. I will have to write a book about the absolute incredible reception, treatment, care, love, affection, and everything else I receive from these people. There are not enough words to praise and commend doctors, dieticians, social workers, clinical psychologists, physiotherapists, nurses, radiology staff, and cleaners. These people don’t just do a job. They live a purpose, apparent in every decision and action they take. The very first thing my doctor told me on Saturday morning was, “Don’t ‘worry. You are far from home, but we will be your family,” and it feels like it.
They inserted a port into my arm to prevent my veins from collapsing during the chemo treatment, which started Saturday morning. My sister made sure to arrive at the hospital the same day and immediately went to the donor section to ensure that she could be a possible donor should I need it in the future. My brother in Walvis Bay, Namibia, did the same thing. I promise you; God indeed blessed me with the best siblings. They don’t just stand in the gap for me; they are willing to give their very lives to save mine. But, then again, we know—us three. We’ve been here before. Yet, I know that I am covered should it ever get that far.
Conviction!
Sunday, 05 December, was a confusing day for me. I had a lot to think and not think about. My soul sister, Juanita, from university, made sure to cater for some much-needed items and had to quickly get over the fact that the four white walls, ceiling and blue curtains with en-suite bathroom will be my life for the next couple of weeks. The problem is, I am an outdoor kind of person. I walk my dogs daily, and I feed wild birds. Then, I sit in silence and reminisce on the sounds of nature. At this point, my mind was screaming “claustrophobia”. Thank God for small mercies in a digital age, though. I can connect with family, friends, colleagues, and long-lost friends in no time. I must elaborate that all the love and support I’ve received this far are astounding. All my warriors in my corner will never understand their actual value and power yet. I will get through this because it’s simply impossible from a spiritual perspective to fail.
I will also be bold now and say that I know I will survive this simply because the Lord told me so. Now, for my nonspiritual/Christian friends, this will seem crazy, and I get it. I would think so too if I were you, but all the others who get me understand. He simply spoke to me through the Bible, Psalm 91 to be specific and some other verses and visions and confirmed it through more than ten other people distributed worldwide (they don’t know each other). It simply states I am protecting you. I will fight this battle for you. All my angel armies are at your disposal, and yes, you may ask other warriors to intercede, but you may not pick up your weapons. You rest and trust me. So be it then.
Hey! There’s fun stuff too!
Before we get to the fun stuff… I will just state that Monday, 06 December 2021, was draining and overwhelming. I saw so many people, all informing me and screening me on this day. The worst, though, was the conversation with the dietician…. Which I will tell you about a bit later. I will say, though, it genuinely crushed me! My vampire came at 04 AM, and she was fantastic. We made jokes, laughed, prayed together, and took pictures for my son. I will withhold her identity for reasons of discretion, but here is a closeup.
My “Drunk CyberBuddy”
I asked my son Jethro to name the gadget connected to the port in my arm. In his usual creative way, he came up with some sound reasoning. We are clearly drinking buddies; I need it to stabilize myself at times, but I definitely don’t really want to hang out with it… so it’s a drunk cyberbuddy. I conquer completely.
Stay tuned for hilarious pyjama drama and sweet consoling thoughts too… and the diet… the diet…
Nevertheless, here I am. I decided to share this journey with you because I’ve long felt that avoiding the talk and harsh realities of the Big C is nonsense. Why should it be a taboo topic still when so many lives have been, are and still will be affected by its horror and the trauma it causes?
Up to September 2021, I was a perfectly healthy woman. Then life changed drastically. I started to have heart palpitations which only increased severely in time. My loving husband dragged my proud butt to the doctor, and there I had to get an EKG, which showed that my heart functions were as expected, but it was beating way too fast. Next up was blood tests which shocked us tremendously. All my blood levels were down – white blood cells, red blood cells and platelets. Something was very wrong. We waited another four weeks to see if it was not just the result of a viral infection, but four weeks later, the tests looked even worse. Our GP immediately ordered a bone marrow biopsy and more tests. As I looked him in the eyes, I pleaded not to do that biopsy. Somehow, I just knew something was off. His response was as always gentle and kind but firm. Finally, he said, “No, Noreen, I know, but we have to look into this. Something is wrong, and the pathologist called to say that it must be done.” Well, there was nothing more to say. It had to be done.
I was admitted to Lady Pohamba hospital in Windhoek on Monday, 28 November 2021. My GP handed me over into the care of a resident doctor there, who immediately organised the biopsy and what felt like a million more blood tests. This is where the vampires come in. It’s my pet name for the Pathcare nurses who so diligently came to withdraw blood every morning at 5 AM. I was genuinely concerned that my already almost nonexistent stores were running dry very quickly. They all took it in good spirit, though, and we often laughed about it.
The shock!
On Tuesday morning, the biopsy was done, and sadly, the results I’ve received later in the day was shocking and disturbing. My doctor informed me that abnormal bone marrow cells indicated cancerous growth or leukaemia. Let’s be clear on this. I don’t like to speak names and sickness over me because of my Christian beliefs. This does not make me narrow-minded. I just view things differently. Let me elaborate at this point. There is a reality that we live in. It is what it is. However, there is also truth, and these two things are not always the same for me. Truth to me is a person – his name is Jesus. John 14:6 says, Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life.” So, to me, Jesus represents truth, irrespective of the reality I find myself in. This means that I acknowledge my circumstances, and I must live them, but that my truth still says he is also a healer, so this is not necessarily a death sentence – it could be, but it is not finalised yet. Of course, I was in shock. Halloo?? We’ve had plans. Our son’s future is of utmost importance now. We were looking at retirement options in a few years, etc. Now, this. I guess life happens when you make plans.
I called my husband and asked him to gently break this disturbing news to our son because I could not. Jethro did not take it well. He went into complete shock. For a young boy of 14, he has experienced loss too often already, and I knew what fears reside in his heart. He had to put down a bird he cared for very much not too long ago. This broke him. His question still resonated in my mind… “Why is it that everyone I love die, mom? I couldn’t answer him before. What on earth was I going to tell him now?
Later that day, both my husband and son came to visit me. We asked our doctor to give us something to calm Jethro’s nerves. He did not have much to say that day, but he just kept looking at me. And the absolute desperation on my husband’s face broke my heart. We tried to get our heads around it, but what was there to say? Unannounced, uninvited, our lives were just thrown into complete disarray… as if we did not already have a lot to deal with in what became the “new normal challenges” for us.
A major shift
We were informed that Namibia’s oncology facilities could not treat this sickness and that South Africa was my best bet. The docter who took care of me, immediately called his colleagues in Cape Town, who agreed to take me in. My husband desperately had to run around and get the paperwork done with our medical aid to see if a transfer could be facilitated. In between, my colleagues at Capricorn Group helped us get a session with a clinical psychologist who was kind enough to come and see all three of us at the hospital for trauma counselling. It was a good session, but something had already shifted in me despite her inspiring session.
I’ve said it before that I am a Christian. To me, that means more than religion – it’s relationship. I’ve built a relationship with Jesus, and I have come to know his presence and the presence of his Holy spirit well in my life. I can hear his still voice at times, and I sense the unconditional love that surrounds you when he enters a room. At some point in my life, I’ve also realised that if he should ever call me home, I would have no reservations about going. I would go immediately, simply because you start to crave that presence more than you desire anything else in this world. And yet, the haunted faces of the two most precious people in my life had me questioning my resolve – and I seldom do that. Instead, I’ve trained my mind to choose and live with whatever consequences follow my decisions. That’s my way… or is it?
Weighing the choice
That night, I had to make a choice. I knew God was still in control, but I had to choose to ask him to tell me the truth, whether it’s time or not, or to talk openly about my desires in the matter. You need to know that this is not my first time dealing with cancer. Both my father and brother had it. My father died of a bleeding ulcer, not actual cancer, but my brother faded away before our very eyes until nothing, but a skeleton remained. This caused severe trauma to our family. However, he was too young to die. He was only 24 years old. Later, I met more people on this journey. Many survived; others didn’t. My aunt recently kicked breast cancer’s butt and my 92-year-old father-in-law, who had lymphoma, also overcame it. He died because his heart gave in due to old age, but the autopsy revealed zero cancer in his body. I met many more warriors along the way, and I have often stood in the gap for them. God trained me to become an intercessor and prayer warrior, so I’ve learned some divine strategies over time. Yet, I also know the ugly truth of the disease. I’ve taken care of my father-in-law. I saw the devastation of the many loved ones when I had to shave their heads clean. It always broke my heart because it signalled the harsh reality of cancer – that it comes to kill, steal, and destroy. I know the phycological stages – I’ve lived through them already—the denial, anger, resentments, etc. Nothing new, yet here I am. I am standing in those shoes now.
What now Lord?
Would it be selfish to ask to stay longer so that I can see the son of your promise develop and grow into the man you showed me he would be? Or to grow old with the love of my life – another gift you’ve so lavishly spoiled me with? You’ve made me a fighter, a warrior. I never quit. I don’t even think I know how to. Yet, what is right and what is wrong here. The divine truth I know that would inevitably happen, or more time for my desires? I would, of course, do exactly as you instruct me and ask of me. No doubt. But either way, it would hurt me. I am not scared of the battle, nor do I fear death because I know I’ll be with you forever. But Father, my heart does not want to say goodbye just yet. I always choose love, which is the most challenging fruit to cultivate. It’s like a pineapple. Incredible, but so thorny. To me, the fruit of love has always only meant sacrifice because that’s the example you’ve shown me.
So, I decided to pray a prayer I’ve often prayed for so many, and He has always honoured it. 2 Kings 20 “Hezekiah turned his face to the wall and prayed to the Lord, 3 “Remember, Lord, how I have walked before you faithfully and with wholehearted devotion and have done what is good in your eyes.” And Hezekiah wept bitterly. Go back and tell Hezekiah, the leader of my people, ‘This is what the LORD, the God of your father David, says: I have heard your prayer and seen your tears; I will heal you. On the third day from now, you will go up to the temple of the LORD. I will add fifteen years to your life.
I do, of course, know the implications of my choice. If my Lord chooses to grant me this request, I will remain in what will be the darkest times the world has ever known. The remnant is rising, the world is changing, and the shift has started. Things will not get easier, but I will have more time with my loved ones. And I will be in not just a temporary fight for my life, but a fight against good and evil, harvesttime and encroaching darkness that will cause more sorrow and pain for humanity. Yet, there is always hope. Not just for me, but everyone. My life’s dedication would shift from my desires towards his cause.
I’ve never been attracted to power, fame, or fortune. I consider myself a simple person who wants to live in peace and serenity. Yet, we are all called. But few choose to take up this cross because we know it will take everything from us. When you decide to follow Jesus, you gain eternal salvation, but you can be sure of deep sorrow and pain ahead in your life. You will be weighed and measured. He only said, “follow me”, and talked about a very narrow road. I guess this is my narrow road. So be it then, Lord. I’ve made my choice, and you know that I will see it through, no matter what. So, I will patiently wait on your response in this matter. Will you spare me the future suffering that is to come? Or will you allow me to take territory? It’s going to be a helluva fight either way.
My next entry will further the journey to Cape town, treatments, and where I find myself now.
Touch Base 