A New Strategy for the War on Cancer - 7
My objective in writing A New Strategy for the War on Cancer is to present the current status of cancer treatment, what has to change if we are to win the war, and how you can be a vital part of the solution. I have very deeply instilled personal reasons for this work.
As the Thompson family entered the year 1998, we were on a mountain top. My wife, Connie, and I were enjoying success in my second career as a staff pastor in a large church. Our sons, Mike and Chris, had earned their college degrees, had married wonderful, gorgeous wives, and were enjoying early achievements in their careers. Mike’s wife, Melinda, was pregnant with our first grandchild. Life was beautiful. We eagerly awaited that year to unfold. Then all hell broke loose.
Our grandson, Blake, was born with a rare congenital leukemia. He was rushed by helicopter to Arkansas Children’s Hospital where he would spend the short month of this life on IVs and monitors. Watching him slip away, day by day, was torture on the parents and grandparents, but was nothing in comparison to the agony that precious little one suffered. Blake only experienced one thing in his life—the evil of cancer.
Melinda was at the hospital with her baby boy 24/7. Her grandmother who had raised her from childhood was also battling cancer. She died while Melinda was miles away with Blake. Her grandmother and grandfather had raised her because, immediately after her birth, her mother died of cancer.
Two months after we buried Blake, my wife of 31 years was diagnosed with breast cancer. The love of my life—healthy, active, spirited, and full of joy—was soon reduced to one who seldom had a good day. Connie suffered through chemotherapy, radiation, and surgeries for three years before her death in 2001. I was, of course, at life’s lowest depth at that point. By God’s mercy and grace, my children, our extended family, and I made it through those horrendous times, but none of us will ever be the same again.
As I was researching in preparation for this book, my eldest brother, Verl, died of lung cancer. Less than a year later, another brother, Dale, died of a rare cancer that attacked his heart. Neither smoked, and both led healthy, active lifestyles. Their lengthy treatment confined them to the bed most of the time.
My niece, in her early forties, currently strives to raise two teenagers although at times practically immobilized by her treatment for breast cancer. One of my best friends has dealt with cervical cancer for over seven years. She continues in and out of chemotherapy. The vitality, beauty, and strength that characterized these women have given way to constant exhaustion, nausea, hair loss, and feelings of hopelessness. Another of my best friends was recently diagnosed with recurring breast cancer on the fifth anniversary of being declared cancer-free from the first bout.
If you haven’t experienced cancer, someone very close to you most assuredly has. It has invaded the very heart of our culture. We must—we absolutely must—find a more promising way to wage this war. It is time to deploy the unconventional forces. Keep the conventional operation going, but open up the battlefield to combatants that are not of the mainstream. Both conventional and unconventional forces fighting side-by-side as one will overwhelm the enemy. And it will be defeated!