Cancer with a Capital C

This morning, I got my PICC line out after a 2-week course of antibiotics and wearing this shirt as a nod to Congressman John Lewis—one of my personal heroes.

I am experiencing a strange sort of high that is confounding even to me. I’m the guy who used to bug Laura about every ache and pain—thinking death was on my doorstep every time I had a headache! I was her worst patient!

All I’m saying is I have enough experience with myself to know that the peace I feel is divine and holy and true. It’s not contrived. It’s not some pithy, hollow saying.

I’m not trying to be strong. I’m not trying to be anything. I’ve been trying my whole life and for the first time, I feel completely free from that. You may not envy the position I’m in, but I gotta tell you, this freedom and peace is enviable.

Now I’m not saying there isn’t a battle. I feel the buzzkill wanting to come at my mind in a million different ways every day—especially in the mornings. Sometimes it is surreal and I feel like I’m about to wake up from a dream. And yet, I don’t want to.

What some would call a death sentence is bringing me LIFE. It’s delivered all the things I’ve ever wanted right to my doorstep with no striving on my part. A richer, deeper relationship with my family and friends. A peace and closeness with God that I’ve striven for my entire life. The opportunity to see miracles happen.

I don’t know if there’s a miracle that will save my physical life. It IS possible! With God ALL things are possible! But I’m experiencing a miracle each day in the ways I feel saved FROM my old way of doing life.

And let me be clear: I’m not surrendering to cancer. I’m just surrendering to the journey this diagnosis is taking me on. I know there are hard days ahead. I know there will be pain and struggles and trials. We ALL face trials. Mine just happens to be the one people whisper about. Cancer with a capital C.

But I don’t feel like whispering! I feel like shouting! I know that spirit is with me and that’s what I need more than anything.

Big Diagnosis, Big Life

It has been 3 weeks since I last wrote and a lot has happened in life. Amazing how everything can change in just a moment. What I thought was going to be a simple gall bladder procedure turned out to be something I never expected—cancer. Pancreatic cancer. Stage IV.

To some, this might feel like a death sentence. To me, it is actually bringing me to life.

In the coming days, you will see more posts from me. More updates. More about our story. Part of my fight and my commitment to live is to share this experience with everyone. It has already been such a full and rich and powerful experience. I am experiencing God in deeper and more real ways than I ever have before. I want to share these experiences. Please share this blog with your friends and family. I want everyone to be part of my journey. It makes it more rich to share this life changing experience with you.

As people have heard the news, they ask what they can do to help Laura and I. Right now, there is only one thing to “do”—help me see Brothers Bakery International open! I was so close to seeing it through to completion. I can’t be there in person right now, but you can help me finish raising the money to open the doors. Join me in fighting for my Venezuelan refugee friends’ dreams to come true—it’s my dream too.

www.somethingnew.org/give

Jason's Journal - April 25, 2021

I arrive in Atlanta Hartsfield-Jackson Airport at approximately 6 AM with just a carryon. It’s a breeze to go through customs and Laura welcomes me at about 6:15 AM. We head straight to Kaiser Permanente’s Acute Care Center. When I arrive, we have all of the test results and Laura gives the doctors a quick update on what has been happening as they check me in. They put me on IV fluids right away and take labs. The next thing I know, I am being taken down for a CT of my midsection. I am thinking how great it will be to get this fixed so that I can get back in the game and supporting the work in Peru. The scan is not difficult and I enjoy the warm blankets that they provide for the patients. When the scan is over, I am returned to the waiting room and the doctor comes in to talk with me. She asks me where my wife is and I tell her that I will give her a call and have her come back in.

Laura arrives and the doctor begins to talk. She tells us that they found a mass growing on my pancreas. It’s blocking one of my bile ducts and that is what is causing the yellowing of my skin. I need to be transferred right away to Emory Midtown for a stent placement to relieve the blockage and further evaluation.

I ride the ambulance transport to Emory Midtown. This is where it starts to get real. Laura is not allowed to ride with me, and they are required to use the ambulance, so I cannot ride in the car with her. I am feeling shell-shocked as I bump along the highway in the ambulance. On some level, I feel a bit incredulous. Almost like I am in a dream sequence that I am about to wake up from. But the presence of the EMTs and the ambulance moving through traffic continues to establish the fact that this is real.

We arrive at Emory Midtown and they take me out of the ambulance. The entrance to the hospital is having technical issues so there is a delay as we wait for someone to open the door from the inside. Once inside, we begin the long journey through the backside of the hospital and up to the room that awaits me.

My room is at the end of a long hall. It’s a large room and has a small window in the center of the wall that looks out into the courtyard below. The EMTs help me move from the stretcher to the bed. They bid me farewell and tell me that a nurse will be coming by soon to check me in. And that is it. I am alone. Just me. In this foreign room.

I look around for something familiar. Something that will tell me that things are going to be ok. I see a bird land on the window ledge outside. I think of my friend Becky and how 27 years ago a bird was a sign that she needed to see one day that told her about the baby growing in her abdomen. A baby doctors said she could never have!

I think to myself, “is that You God?” As soon as the thought enters my mind a second bird immediately appears on the ledge. In a moment, I know I am not alone. God is going through this with me. He is here! I am unable to explain the relief and sense of peace that washes over me. It actually confounds me because of all that has happened in the last eight hours.