Prelude

Posted on June 5th, 2011 by Cam.
Categories: Let's talk.

This week has been tiring, and I am trying my best to not get worried about my pain levels. Physically, I find things changing quite rapidly. I have my good days and bad, but recently my legs have been experiencing really sharp pain, but now they are fine. My back has been ok in recent weeks, and now that is painful. My ribs are also experiencing pain. Sometimes I can walk fine, without thinking too much about the joint or muscle ache. Sometimes though, it overwhelms me and I need to lay down, sleep or just rest at least.

I am having prayer at the healing rooms in Perth. The people there have been amazing, praying with incredible faith and authority, and putting in every minute they can for me. We have been thorough and persistent in praying. I feel that a lot has been accomplished through such prayer. Prayer has never been the last ditch effort in this journey – it has always been the first and continuous element in the last four years. But now I guess it has even more significance, in that before prayer was being answered in conjunction with what was going on medically. I have seen a lot of answered prayers through what medicine has done in my treatment. Now, there is no medical treatment, so whatever happens now is without medical intervention.

I am thankful for what medicine has given me over the years (well, mostly I suppose), but I am also thankful that it is over. I cannot imagine how many times I have been stuck, scanned, tested or whatever. I have been happy to sign my body in at the door and let medics have their way with me. I would like to say I have checked out mentally, but unfortunately I have been cognitively trying to process every painful aspect that my body has had to go through over these four years.

It has its upsides. I love a good MRI. I love the way you can just zone out while magnetic waves vibrate through your entire body. Its what I do for kicks. And boy oh boy do I love some of the drugs. One of these last times I was admitted with severe withdraws from oxycontin. My body was cramping uncontrollably and I was an emotional wreck. To go from a state of complete discomfort and writhing around on a bed in physical and mental torment to be completely at peace with a rather large dose of morphine – I will be eternally grateful for whoever invented such drugs.

Now, I accept that it is totally up to God how things go from here, and this excites me, seriously. I no longer have to make decisions about treatment options, as there are no options that I would consider – that is clear. All I can do is trust that God leads me down the path where I can be released from the grip of this hideous disease. I hate it. There is nothing at all right about it. Grotesque.

In this, I feel I am in the best hands I could hope for. I have relentless faith and encouragement in Ash, an amazing family, friends I cannot begin to describe, an incredible medical team at Charlies, and a God who is about to demonstrate something glorious, again, and again. Don’t read between the lines and interpret this as a ‘signing off’ – on the contrary. I consider the writings on The Walk Beside as a prelude to something ahead that is triumphant. Not any of my triumph, but of what God is able to do with something that is this broken. He has already done miracles in my spirit, as well as many physical miracles that I cannot deny. I am called to believe that the best is yet to come – and I do.

There is no disclaimer here, but if this carcass falls to the ground, I don’t want anyone to think or say ‘Well, he got the ultimate healing – no more suffering now’. No, this is not good enough, and it is not healing – it is being deceased, no more, kicked the bucket, passed a ‘use by’ date, carked it… dead. This is not healing, it is the hideously devastating consequence of sin in this world, and it should be hated for every right reason – it steals, kills, destroys. It is worthy of our hate, our anger, our disgust and our every effort to come against it in Jesus name.

So now I am learning to surrender this disease to Christ who did everything necessary to take the power out of death – that has been done. There is nothing to ‘fight’ other than principalities and powers. That is where this battle lies. It won’t be long now before we see a conclusion of sorts to this preface. The fact that there is a definite time frame in place now for some sort of resolution excites me to no end. There is, of course, the overwhelming threat of loss from time to time, but I have not felt it much recently – just more a sense of anticipation.

I do not want to paint a picture of everything being peaceful, happy, certain and easy, because it is far from it. Imagine being in a washing machine, and you know the cycle is just about to end, but you know there is the spin cycle coming up and it is the most intense part. I know this cycle coming up is going to be my most intense ever.

I imagine my body being pain free, and that is enough to get me excited. I know it is possible – I just want it now. No, really…right now.

4 comments.

Sharon Murphy

Comment on June 6th, 2011.

I have always been walking beside you Cam.

I want to give you a website of people with myeloma and their supporter who know exactly what you are going through.
http://www.acor.org/myeloma.html

Unfortunately we will never live a normal life as it was again, but we need to fight this beast it is the drugs that keep us alive and the longer we live the better the drugs get and who knows one day they may find a cure, this is my norm.

I hope there is a god because I would like to think that my daughter is up there with him. I pray every night and you are always in my prayers.

Love Sharon Murphy

Toddy

Comment on June 7th, 2011.

You asked previously whether or not you have enough faith?
Well, you have spades more than me. And, given how many mustard seeds fit on a spade, I figure you’ve got ‘enough’.

All down to God now. Not you, not your amount of faith, not your anything, nor the ‘anything’ of anyone else…

Frightening.
Cool.
Bizarre.
Uncomfortable.
Beautiful.

All at the same time…

Kristie

Comment on June 8th, 2011.

Cam we walk beside you and your family with our hand placed upon your shoulder. Love the Metcalf clan xxx

sojourner

Comment on June 8th, 2011.

thank’s for sharing this – you continue in my prayers – e-mail me whenever you want to vent or go deeper

Leave a comment

Comments can contain some xhtml. Names and emails are required (emails aren't displayed), url's are optional.