I think this day will always be seared into my mind…July 29, 2015. That is when I went in for surgery to remove what was thought to be a benign brain tumor. Something that was supposed to take about four hours. My family waited nine hours, and Debbie especially sensed there was something more going on with this tumor. It would be several days later, while in ICU, that we would get the crushing news about this tumor. I remember my neurosurgeon walking in. I expected to see him. What I didn’t expect to see was my Leukemia doctor and a neuro-oncologist. And then I remember my neurosurgeon saying… “Mr. Andre, we got the results back from the biopsy of the tumor. In the tumor we found Leukemia cells—the same Leukemia type that you have had previously.” Looking at the faces of those three doctors, I could tell this was a serious moment. The one where you feel that they are telling you that there may not be much of a chance. My Leukemia doctor went on to explain to me the seriousness of this tumor. Leukemia is a blood cancer. When it returns in the form of a solid tumor it is bad news. And when it returns as a solid tumor, in the brain, that is catastrophic news. Only 5-6 cases are reported in the world each year, and none of them survive, he explained. There is no standard protocol for it.
Instead of being out of the hospital in a few days, I was headed back for more chemo (into my spinal fluid, to wash my brain with chemo in a long-shot attempt to wipe out any remaining Leukemia cells) and twelve radiation treatments to try and remove any traces of the tumor. More days and weeks in the hospital ahead. It felt like our world collapsed and that this was likely the final round in my long journey with Leukemia, a round that would likely not end in victory.
After all these years, my hope took a hit. I thought back to 2011 when I re-lapsed, but a stem-cell transplant from my sister (a perfect match) saved my life. And it looked like it did the reset I needed. My doctors had told me about the “5-year milestone” – that’s a marker you can look forward to in recovery from cancer and likely complete remission. And here I was on the edge of that milestone—I had made it four years since transplant. I could see the edge of victory coming—one more year and I would be clear. I was so close, but it was not to be.
But today, five years, is a milestone I had never reached before. I had always re-lapsed—after one year in 2011 and four years in 2015. But 2020 would be the five-year milestone. In my last appointment with my Leukemia doctor (the same one who said… “5-6 cases and none of them survive”) said this…I am happy to see you in 2020. We didn’t have much hope for you back in 2015. And then he said this…if the tumor was going to come back, it would have come back by now. Instead of seeing him every few months, I will only see him once every year for a few more years. And no need to have any more MRI brain scans.
Hearing him say that reminded me of a scripture I have read 100s of times. It is in Matthew 19:26:
Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”
God makes the Impossible POSSIBLE.
My journey is evidence of that. Yes, the journey has taken a toll on me, and my family. There are some cognitive/mental health hits from all the trauma to my brain. But I am here. I work at a great company (TiER1 Performance) and I’m not disabled—I can do the job I always wanted to do in leading research. I am enjoying three grandchildren from our daughter/son-in-law with #4 coming in two months. My oldest son is a pilot in the Air Force, flying NATO missions, And I get to see my youngest son grow up and pursue his dreams.
This song by our friend and worship leader, Jared Anderson (Impossible Possible) is the story of the last five years…Jesus makes the Impossible Possible. Enjoy it here.
Amazed by His Love,
Terence