illness

The Road to Transplant: Embracing a New Paradox

Steve · March 27, 2011 · 25 Comments

Malaysian Doorway, photo by Steve Givens, 2011.

On February 24, a week and a few days after a bone marrow biopsy, I learned that I have a new, and more serious health condition than the one I have been battling over the past four years. In fact, it was the chemotherapy I received this past summer for that disease, called Langerhans Cell Histiocytosis (LCH), that is the cause of my new health challenge. Against 99 to 1 odds, the chemo seriously damaged my bone barrow to the point where I have a condition called myelodysplastic syndrome (MDS, formerly known as “preleukemia”).

What I’ve been focused on the past few weeks is once again preparing myself to enter unknown territory. My spiritual journey into more than three years of on-again and off-again chemotherapy I chronicled in my book, “Embraced by God: Facing Chemotherapy with Faith.” Now I am facing the very real possibility that this syndrome (which I and most others have never heard of) will transform itself into leukemia, which everyone has heard of and is just about as scary a word as cancer. In any case, I am facing what I was told was the only possible long-term cure for the syndrome/leukemia — a stem cell transplant.

My new book released: Embraced by God: Facing Chemotherapy with Faith

Steve · March 10, 2010 · 4 Comments

yhst-15803510100271_2097_36424567 — The cover of my new book!

Just a quick post to say that my collection of essays about facing disease and treatment with faith is about to hit the virtual and physical bookstore shelves.

The publisher’s catalog reads:

Here, after three years of chemotherapy, Steve Givens describes his experiences of pain, sickness, confusion, and sadness, but also his profound sense of renewal and spiritual re-birth. He reveals that he has chosen the way of faith and God because he knows of no other way that brings peace and a reason to go on. This is a beautifully told story of struggle and pain, but ultimately of peace and acceptance, a wonderful resource for all who are facing chronic illness and its treatment.

For more information on the book, see the Faith & Chemo section of my blog or click on the chemotherapy category to read excerpts from the book.

More to come. Peace & healing…

Steve

Taking on the Black Hill of Death

Steve · December 19, 2009 · 2 Comments

Me, Jon and Jess, at the foot of Cerro Negro before the climb.

This past summer, I accompanied my parish youth group on a one-week mission trip to Nicaragua, where we helped build homes and a school near the northern city of Chinendega. But first, we were told that we were going to climb Cerro Negro, a 2,400-foot high volcano that had last erupted about a decade ago. When we arrived at the site, dubbed (jokingly, I hoped) the “black hill of death,” I stood in awe of the giant black formation. I wondered, and even doubted, if I could climb to the top along a narrow path among the jagged rocks and boulders and then make my way down the smooth slope of the other side of the hill that was covered with foot-deep volcanic gravel. I knew, of course, that I had an easy out. I could say that I just didn’t feel up to it and no one would question me. But I decided to go for it.

I thought it might be tough, but I wasn’t ready for just how tough it was. I stopped often along the way to catch my breath and gather the strength and will to go on. When I reached the top of the first winding and difficult path that led to another narrow path that shot straight along the crest of the volcano, my heart fell when I realized how much I had left to do. But I put one foot in front of the other, I put my head down and just walked, and with time I found myself standing at the highest point of the volcano.

My good buddy, Larry, takes a break on the way up Cerro Negro. Photo by Steve Givens

The pay off was great. The views were spectacular, and I got to share the accomplishment with the others in the group, including my son, Jon, and his girlfriend, Jess. We cheered on those who were still making their way up. We shared stories of the ascent and a simple meal of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. We took photos of each other rejoicing at our accomplishment. And then we headed down – a joyous descent, sliding and jumping through the loose volcanic gravel in minutes and making the multi-hour ascent a mere memory.

I learned a lot about myself that day. I learned I could do more than I thought I could. I learned the power of “one step at a time” and I remembered my high school coaches’ encouragement to get past a little bit of hurt by “walking it off.” But for me, this day was about much more than walking or physical strength.

I rediscovered an inner strength that I know comes from God. I reconnected with the idea that we are called to take care of our bodies because they are the temples of the Holy Spirit. I’m not going to become a marathon runner any time soon, but my experience on Cerro Negro, along with the intense physical labor of the rest of the week, awakened in me a need to both push myself a little physically (as my body with its disease will allow, of course) and, more importantly, to learn to call upon God as the source of my strength.

IMG_4127_2 — Me and Jon at the top of Cerro Negro

So when I just can’t do it, or when I am winded or fall, the greatest blessing is knowing that I have a God who sees me in my weakness, who knows me by name, and who picks me up and carries me the rest of the way. I am not ashamed of my weakness, for it is just an outward sign that there is still healing to be done inside me.