2025 – A Summer and Fall of Surprises – God Has a Plan and Purpose for Our Lives – Part VII

My voice has been impacted in a significant way, beginning when I had trouble swallowing in July. The sound was a bit hoarse at first, but over time my voice became monotone and lacking the usual inflection and emphasis I typically give to words or phrases. The breath behind my speech was somehow reduced, so my volume declined as well. My initial reaction was to withdraw somewhat from speaking, as it was embarrassing to me—a former Toastmaster whose personality was often made manifest through my ability to verbally communicate with others. Now I just talk away, sometimes apologizing for my voice and often repeating words, but I am determined to communicate my messages, which generally works okay.

The surgery to implant the port for chemo went well. I was expecting a lot of pain following the procedure under anesthesia and was offered a narcotic painkiller by the surgeon, but I experienced little pain at all. I took one Tylenol tablet, and my energy returned; I had a productive day. I thought maybe I could handle the chemo on December 1st with similar minimal discomfort — we’ll see. Little victories are worth celebrating and support confidence building, a must-have with this challenging journey that others in the Facebook Esophageal Cancer affinity group apparently have with this disease. I’ve got to quit reading the posts, though.

I find myself resuming a bit of yard work and cleaning cars, only to get tired after a while, which tells me I must rest and go easy — a reminder that cancer is alive and well until the chemo takes hold, hopefully starting in December. Daily activities give me the illusion that my former life is being resumed, as if the cancer never existed. It’s okay to feed the idea that one day cancer will be in the past, although it’s sometimes a shock when reality sets in.

I wonder when the worst symptoms will begin to appear — when fatigue sets in, appetite is lacking, and energy is lost. Will it be three months, six months, or a year? You can’t help but think about this, assuming the treatments don’t work. You get tired of getting your affairs in order and just want to leave it to family to figure out. This may be the dark place cancer victims find themselves — a deep hole you can’t climb out of.

I wrote the prior paragraph last evening. Today, I am exuberant, full of energy, and ready to take on the day. I have lunch with my good friend Frank and must head to a scheduled doctor’s appointment this morning. Otherwise, I’ll see what can be done today, as I’ve updated my to-do list. This “bipolar” shift in attitude and how you see this reality can be daunting, but as long as I see the glass as half full — that’s my goal!

I’m reminded that God has a plan, and my job is to be faithful and do my best work to take care of what He puts in front of me each day, to follow the treatment regimen, and leave the rest to God. I must be like a child, having a childlike faith that all will be taken care of. My job is to go about my day using my gifts with positivity, encouraging others, knowing God has a plan for this cancer, and trusting that I will be okay with the plan, knowing God has my best interests at heart. I call that genuine Trust!

Blessings,
Joe