Re: “How have you been?”
At last, after some time, largely without your company, “I have much to write to you” (2 John 2:12a). The past nine months have been a mix of unpredictability, struggle, relief, and so much more. Words alone do not do my experiences justice. That said, some of you may not be aware of my goings-on because I either haven’t met you or we haven’t gotten the chance to talk about it. I hope that this post would allow me to explain some of what I have been going through over the last few terms.
It never gets much easier to start the story no matter how many times I tell it. On the evening of September 4, 2022, I got a phone call from my family doctor with the worrying results of a scan I had done not a month prior. A growth was showing in my liver. I told my parents, had some more scans, blood work, and a biopsy done, and within a week I was back home from Waterloo with the news that I had been diagnosed with liver cancer. During that week, a lot happened. I remember getting picked up to leave Waterloo after my last class on a Monday evening, parting ways after class with fellow fourth years and CCFers Anda Su and John Gu. I remember getting confirmation of my diagnosis. I remember the look of distress on my mother’s face as I saw her for the first time since I had arrived home. And I remember not feeling fearful or sad. In fact, still being able to eat (which was surprising, given that the cancer had come to cover most of my liver) and do most things I had been able to do until then, I felt relatively calm. I wanted to go back to school if it were possible. Even when I decided to take time off, I saw it as a chance to break away from the stress that I had built up over the past few terms. A break to recover from my illness and get back to work after it was over, just like any other illness. One might think that, with as much time to grow as it did, I would have felt the tumour pressing against my chest — something at all to show for the severity of the situation. I had some symptoms, but none that would lead me to believe I had cancer. I could chalk them up to eating a bad fish one day or sleeping too late (Pro tip: Talk to your doctor and get your blood tests done. Too many cancer patients have their disease diagnosed after it develops — early detection is the best medicine!). In hindsight, I am thankful to God that in those moments I was not crushed with sorrow or despair. Perhaps my relative dispassion is inappropriate at times — God still uses our emotions to speak to us — but I am glad for the peace that I had at the time.
Moving on from my diagnosis, I was quickly put on immunotherapy treatments as well as a form of targeted therapy. Immunotherapy is a form of treatment that, unlike chemotherapy which kills off cancer cells and some healthy cells, trains the body’s immune system to recognize cancer cells as foreign and eliminate them. It is not uncommon that patients undergoing immunotherapy have fewer side effects than those undergoing chemotherapy. Unfortunately, since my body had not acclimated to the treatment and my tumour was so large, my immune system had an intense response, and I suffered high fevers for two weeks straight. I am glad that I met up with Ethan Yap and John Gu the week before those fevers flared up and have prayer and support for my condition, and to have seen some more fourth years at a meetup later that same day. Matters did get worse, and in the last few days in my string of fevers, I had to go to the ER. Having scans done and taking Tylenol and hospital meals, I was discharged after a day. Going home that Friday, I resumed a devotion plan Anda had set up to read the New Testament within a term. That Saturday morning, I turned to Luke 4, which has the account of Jesus healing Simon’s mother-in-law of a high fever. And remarkably, my fevers died down that very day. Even now, after six more rounds of immunotherapy, I have not had a fever since! My targeted therapy involved one round last November of putting radioactive beads into my liver through one of my veins. I also had some bouts of stomach pain and bloating following that, and still have some right now, but with less intensity. It was funny to say that I was radioactive, though.
And to think, all this just in the Fall 2022 term! So many people have supported me and prayed for me, including people within CCF. A special thank you to my fellow fourth years who wrote me cards during their Fall 2022 retreat. It has been so encouraging to stay connected with the fellowship through you all and to see that it has still been striving to love and serve God this past year. Among your thoughtful messages, I found out that a brother-in-Christ, Martyn Sui, learned about the fellowship in part because of me, which strengthened his faith in a time when it might have swayed. For the record, I do not recall doing much for him, and maybe mentioned the fellowship in passing. I did not expect God would take my tiny action and grow it like this — I suppose I should just let Him cook!
After the Fall term, I was able to enjoy some months of relative ease alongside, more recently, some months of discomfort and physical pain. However, for most Sundays, I was still able to go to my home church in-person for worship and have fellowship with my church small group. Maintaining both practices has made me realize the necessity for both in the Christian life and has given me prayer and support throughout my ups and downs. A few months ago, my doctors told me that to have a chance of curing my cancer, the only option available to me was transplantation, and living donor transplantation at that. Starting with my family, I began looking for a donor, and by God’s grace, my father was willing and able to donate his liver. And so, after a delay in the initial operation date, my transplant has currently been scheduled for July 5, and I will head down to the hospital (Toronto General Hospital) the day before. Barring any further delays, I wait in anticipation for that day, as it comes with considerable risk. Recently, I have noticed that the Easter story and the process of transplantation have things in common, and now take the opportunity to use my situation to share it.
Living donor transplantation is somewhat analogous to Jesus’ sacrifice of his body and blood on the cross. Just as a donor must consider their recipient’s needs above their own to the point of risking their own health to give the recipient the chance to be cured of their disease, Christ gave himself up for us despite our sinful nature, suffering great physical pain, but more importantly, in taking on all our sins, suffered a permanent scar on his relationship with God the Father. After a transplant is complete, many outcomes may occur. The recipient’s body may reject the new organ, which could result in death. There may be complications with the procedure that lead to further harm. Or, it could be a complete success, with the recipient needing to take immunosuppressants for life to prevent the body from ever rejecting the organ. And so goes our battle with sin. Without recognizing Jesus as Lord and remaining in sin, our wage is death. And even if we do have saving faith, we are forced to wrestle with our earthly nature each day to bring it into submission to the new life we have and strive toward. In my case, I still deal with sloth — imagine having to decide how to spend 16 or more hours a day without a job or studies to occupy you, with lack of sleep and discomfort hampering your concentration. It is a struggle to discern what God wants me to do, moment-to-moment, given those constraints, and something I still need prayer and guidance for.
And thus, with my transplant in place, I await the time I can come back to restart my studies. Tentatively, given I recover from my operation, a process involving about two weeks recovering in the hospital and then further recuperation for several weeks at home and close contact with doctors, I will be able to return either in the Fall 2023 or Winter 2024 term. New challenges await, no doubt. But for now, I continue to rest my body and spirit to be able to withstand the upcoming burden I am to face. However, I would be remiss to omit some work I have been doing on the side in the past few months that I believe can edify and be of assistance to you all. Some of you may know that I’m a Computer Science student and by God’s grace, I haven’t completely lost my ability to code yet. Thus, I figured that a good, God-honouring use of my time would be to make some software that helps with Bible studies. I call it BibleDoc, since it takes in a list of Bible verse references and creates a Google Doc containing each of the references and their corresponding texts. Granted, it does take a little bit of computer know-how to set up, but I trust my fellow math and engineering students to be experts, who, let’s be honest, probably could have made it much quicker than I did :). Here is the link to check the tool out: https://github.com/a6you/BibleDoc (Disclaimer: I only tested out the tool on a MacBook, so I can’t comment on how the experience will be for Windows users!). Hopefully it’s able to save you SG and DG leaders some time in preparing for Bible studies so that you can focus on other aspects of leading. Feel free to give me feedback on it or even a pull request if you’re so inclined.
With that announcement out of the way, I pray that you all would be well, and that God would continue working in all of you. As I opened the piece invoking John, I invoke him once more to close: Even though I want to and will give another update when I’m able, “I do not want to use paper and ink. Instead, I hope to visit you and talk with you face to face, so that our joy may be complete” (2 John 2:12b).
