Keep The Faith

I have always had people around me who set the bar pretty high. After all, I belonged to what I consider to be an above average family, thanks to my hard working immigrant parents and my capable siblings. My childhood experiences were way above average, especially when one sees the images coming out of Gaza, South Sudan and other places. I’ve been surrounded by people who excel in their life vocations, whether they be my siblings or my own children.  Listen, this is not a lament: Personally, I’ve lived most of my life solidly in the middle of the pack. Average. The mean.  I was an average student with an average intellect and, to be honest, below-average study habits. Though I won a couple of athletic awards in high school, I was an average athlete. I became an average coach even though I loved what I did. As an educator, a profession I cherish, I was average, with the occasional bright moment. I was/am able to be an average spouse thanks to Kathy who has an above avera...

The word miracle gets thrown around a lot.  “I got the last parking spot in the whole mall parking lot. It was a miracle!”  No, I don’t think so. “The Oilers tied it up with 22 seconds left. A miraculous goal!” Wrong! When we speak of a miracle aren’t we extolling an extraordinary event which is a sign of the supernatural power of God ? As much as some hockey fans would like to believe that God cheers for THEIR team, and some Christmas shoppers might speak of a divine parking attendant, I would beg to differ. Perhaps what I have just written is a rather dubious intro for what comes next. Maybe I too should be lumped in with the happy shoppers and hockey fanatics; I’ll leave the lumping to you. You can decide. A little more than a year ago, as we welcomed 2024, my heart was noisier than the New Year’s Eve fireworks. I was experiencing an aggressive relapse and both my Red Deer doctor and a team at the Cross Cancer Institute were unable to provide a viable treatment moving forw...

  I bought a new coffee mug recently. I know, I know...that's not a very newsworthy event, but stay with me for a few moments.  Printed on the mug is: "It's a good day to have a good day." Normally we would avoid mugs with writing on them, but I was attracted to this mug because the message is just a slightly different version of a weathered sign that hangs along one of my favourite bike rides.  That sign says, "Today is a good day for a good day." And it truly is a good day for a good day. We e-biked to Red Deer to see our oncologist last week and he said something we haven't heard since I relapsed in the winter of 2021, "All clinical indications show that you are in a complete remission." For those of you who know about cancer treatments, you know it IS a fact that remissions become harder to achieve with each treatment protocol. At least it WAS a fact! I have been blessed, in this fourth treatment protocol which I began in January, with co...

Much to our amazement, the radiologists report on the PET scan done at noon today arrived in my Inbox about ten minutes before we arrived home this afternoon! It is detailed and requires a closer look with dictionary in hand, but there is one sentence we really understand: Overall dramatic improvement from previous study [November '23 PET scan] presumed from response to therapy. "Overall dramatic improvement..." We are so #thankful for that result and for your prayerful support. Brian and Kathy

Kathy and I have been forced to do a lot  of thinking over the past 6 years about what it means to trust God. We are thankful for the role so many of you have had in helping us process that journey! Once again, however, I find myself unable to avoid doubt. Kathy sees it written in the wrinkles on my forehead. This week those doubts are the background noise arising from an upcoming scan. Everything about the course of treatment I started in January has been positive. The treatments each week are quick and easy--just a needle in my belly.  The side effects are mild, save for the fact that it leaves me very open to infection. Summer activities are constrained only by the reality that I must get the injection every week. For a fourth line of treatment, this one is not at all harsh. And if that were not enough, my bloodwork has been excellent, to the point that my doctor cautiously uses the word remission. I haven't heard that word since my stem cell transplant! So many prayers hav...

A bone marrow biopsy will confirm it, but we are 95% sure that you have a blood cancer called Multiple Myeloma. This past week we remembered that it has now been six years since we first heard those words from a very compassionate doctor at the Lethbridge hospital. Six years! The months that followed those were, I think, the most difficult of my life.  Heavy grief. Debilitating pain from cancer-crumbled vertebrae and fractured ribs. Long hospitalizations.  Future plans dashed. In those first days, everything we read about aggressive myeloma told us that the chance of survival beyond three years was around 65%, beyond five years less than 35%. If someone had guaranteed us 6 years, we definitely would have considered ourselves blessed. And blessed we are. Research into treatments and possibly a cure have burgeoned in those years. I, by God's grace, seem to be riding the front edge of the advancements of that research. After a disappointingly short 30 month remission from my stem...