Life After Near Death

Lying on my bathroom floor, desperately trying to remain conscious, I wondered if this was how my life would end. “I am only forty-five years old. Oh no! I waited too long. I should have gone for help,” I thought as I chastised myself. Fear gripped me as I lay there feeling too weak to move or even call out for help. As a nurse, I instinctively knew that I needed to keep my circulating blood flowing to my brain, so I assumed the shock position with my head low and feet up on the wall. If I passed out, I could bleed to death. No one knew I had been here all night. But God! He knew. Suddenly, His firm, assuring words captured my attention…” Wendy, you have given me your life, now let Me manage it!”  Ah yes. That sharp reminder was necessary for me to realize that this is what my salvation was about. I needed to trust Him with my actual life! Even though I had no idea how my Lord would help me, I intentionally relaxed and surrendered my life into His hands. The familiar scripture verse drifted through my mind, “…. My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness…” 2 Corinthians 12:9 (NKJV) And so I waited. Only a few moments passed before I heard my husband’s heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. He hurriedly banged on my teenaged daughter’s bedroom door yelling, “call 911! Get an ambulance!” Then suddenly, he was standing over me. The paramedics arrived quickly and after taking my pulse, determined that I had lost at least half of my total blood volume.

Looking back, I realize that I took my health for granted. Working the stressful twelve hour shifts in the nursing profession was in itself enough to be challenging. Add to that my role as a mother caring for two chronically ill daughters, serving in several ministry positions at church and endlessly searching for marital solutions for my ailing twenty-five-year marriage. I had no idea that the annual bouts of bronchitis and pneumonia were warning signs that my immune system was weakening. Pulling up my bootstraps and powering through was what I believed was expected of me. Most of the time I felt overwhelmed with my life. There was no room for joy or fun. As a child, I was taught that striving to achieve was our life purpose and enjoying life was frivolous.

Fatigue plagued me, so I sought answers from a naturopath. Trusting authority figures came easily for me and I willingly took his homeopathic solutions without question. Having had a great relationship with my medical doctor for fourteen years, I found myself perplexed and frustrated that he wouldn’t refer me to see a gynecologist when I developed the unusual heavy bleeding. My people pleasing behavior and avoiding confrontation at all costs would not and never will be my allies. I was shocked to hear him discount my symptoms saying, “Oh you women and your problems. Men have issues too!” I got the message loud and clear, “Go away and don’t mention this again.” And so, for nine long months, I wore a huge, bulky diaper type pad and tried to adjust my life to the uncontrollable bleeding. Praying daily for healing, direction and answers were added to my already long list of requests.

But on this one critical night, the bleeding did not wane as it had done before. My husband and daughter had gone to bed in their respective rooms. From ten o’clock that evening until six o’clock in the morning, I was on and off the toilet as the blood just kept pouring out. I was so very tired and only wanted to sleep. Continuing to think it would ease up soon, I thought I might try to drive myself to the hospital with a towel between my legs. The thought of asking my husband for help, disturbing his sleep, never occurred to me. Shortly before I felt faint in the wee hours of the morning, I recall having the thought, “Wow, a body can sure lose a lot of blood and nothing bad seems to happen.” Well, I was so very wrong. After arriving at the hospital, I would finally be seen by a gynecologist. There had been a series of Hepatitis B tainted blood in the recent months, so I requested not to have a transfusion if at all possible. My doctor stated that if my hemoglobin was below 60g/L, I would need to have it replaced. Praise God! My level was just that, half of the normal level. My husband left from home to go to work. I didn’t see him until much later that evening when he came to pick me up. I asked him how he knew to come to me and he said, “God woke him up and told him to get to me as I was in trouble!” With nothing but a saline intravenous infusion, I waited alone for twelve long hours while laying on a narrow stretcher before they could do the Dilation and Curettage surgery. I don’t recall being checked once while I waited in the busy hallway, but praise God, I didn’t lose one more drop of blood. Upon awakening from the anesthetic, I saw two doctor’s faces staring closely at me and looking perplexed. One said, “How did you not bleed out? We saw clotted blood suspended in your uterus like a big cluster of grapes.”

I replied, “Do you mean how did I not bleed to death?”

They said, “Yes.”

I answered, “It was God.”

They answered not a word.

Thank You Lord Jesus for saving my life!

My surgeon called a couple of days later saying he wanted to see my husband and I in his office. My reaction to his news telling us that I had an aggressive stage two uterine cancer wasn’t alarming. My first thought was, “Finally, I know what is causing this and it can be fixed.”

I would need to have a total hysterectomy which includes removing the ovaries, fallopian tubes and uterus. Strangely, the word “cancer” didn’t make me fearful. In fact, I had an unusual joy. Was I just hoping that this crisis would be the catalyst to bring healing to our broken marriage?

Was this the “joy of the Lord” which the Bible says “is our strength.” Nehemiah 8:10b(NKJV)

My husband and I drove home in silence. He never, ever spoke to me about the diagnosis. I was puzzled and didn’t know how to process his silence. Was he worried? Taking my cues as to how to behave based on his reactions was how I lived my life with him. So, I just carried on, taking care of everything, as I always did. I realized that I could not lean on him at all for support. And yet I had hope that somehow God would use this situation to heal our relationship. I would be willing to suffer anything for that.

I decided to call my regular doctor and inform him as to what had happened. I hoped that my experience would encourage him to send his female patients with unusual uterine bleeding to a gynecologist. Sadly, he just responded with a legal comment, “I make no admission of wrongdoing.” He must have assumed I would sue him, but no, that was not my intention. Having learned how essential it was to forgive people, I intentionally practiced it regularly when I thought of him or even saw him after returning to work again.

The abdominal surgery took place two weeks after the hemorrhage. The vertical incision was extremely painful and recovery slow. Already anemic, I lost more blood during the operation. It took months before my levels returned to normal. But now, I had a new problem; instant menopause, as I had lost my estrogen sources. The “sweats” went on for years. As well, I was told I could possibly need to have radiation just in case some cancer cells went rogue in my abdomen. I felt disappointed when my gynecologist informed me that because the cancer had spread into the middle layer of the uterus, radiation was recommended. He added “It doesn’t hurt and it will be just like going to camp.” Our city didn’t offer the treatments, so I was required to travel to the coastal city of Vancouver, which is about a four-hour drive from where I lived. My sister and family were moving here and I wasn’t looking forward to being away for the six weeks. Interestingly, I assumed that God was sending me there as He wanted me to share Jesus with other cancer patients. Looking at this sacrifice as an assignment from heaven helped me to adjust to the idea. The Cancer Clinic Lodge provided me with housing and meals. Having my own car there wasn’t necessary, so my husband drove me. While saying goodbye, I sensed a hint of a possible spark of love between us. He didn’t delay his departure and seemed eager to get on the road. Even though my sister and friends tried to help in several ways, I realized that this walk with the Lord, was one that only He and I could take together. A new loneliness accompanied me. My daily treatments quickly took a toll on my body, burning my intestines. After only a few days, I was unable to eat foods as everything went right through me. Looking forward to discovery walks and bus rides to lovely areas of this city became more unmanageable as I experienced the ongoing bowel bleeding and diarrhea. On the first few weekends, I took the long 5-hour ride bus home. Sadness and disappointment weighed heavily on me as my eyes searched for a joyful greeting from my husband.

Sharing a room with new women each week was challenging as I longed to find places to be alone to just pray. Fibromyalgia and severe back pain along with the interrupted sleep with the menopausal symptoms took a toll on me. I wasn’t feeling much like an ambassador for Christ. Everything in me wanted to run each time I felt forced to get up on the treatment bed to allow more radiation burning. I wasn’t in the habit of asking the Lord about decisions I made. I just went along with what I was told to do and presumed it was the right decision. “Was I doing the right thing, Lord? Is this really your will?”  But somehow, I thought it was too late to change my mind, so I would endure until the weeks were over. On one very difficult day, I felt like I could take no more. Since I tended to take every word I read in the Bible literally, I thought of King Hezekiah and how he asked God to grand him fifteen more years to live. (2 Kings 20: 1-5) Believing that if God was going to use this cancer to turn my marriage around, I wanted to be here to experience it. So, I prayed and asked God to grant me the same number of years. Thankfully, God didn’t answer that prayer exactly as that would have only brought me to age sixty. Presently, I am enjoying twenty-six years cancer free! Praise You Lord! He has numbered my days here on earth.

My sister and her husband hosted my husband each evening, serving him a lovely gourmet meal. I could hear the laughter in the background as I spoke on the phone with her. Although I was very grateful for their gift of hospitality, I wondered if my husband missed me or was even concerned. I rarely heard him laugh in our home. Back pain plagued him. Some nights he would venture down to the basement guest room to sleep in a bed that he found more comfortable. With my shiftwork and unusual sleep schedules, living in separate rooms became our normal for the past ten years. We were drifting further apart and rarely even ate a meal together. On many mornings, he would get up and go out somewhere without saying a word. My heart yearned for companionship, but whenever I would bring it up, he would get angry and storm out of the room. Silence and avoiding conflict seemed to be the foundation of our relationship.

Finally, my graduation day arrived after one more internal radiation treatment. I was done. Hallelujah! My husband surprised me by sending me a dozen red roses. Hope arose in me again.

Travelling home by air was a welcomed relief although managing all of my accumulated belongings was challenging. I prayed that my bowels would behave as I waited in the lineups.

Visiting my sister and family several times a week was such a welcomed blessing. I enjoyed her lovingly prepared meals as well as our heart to heart talks. My gynecologist set up regular check -ups with him for five years. He told me that this cancer was fed by estrogen so I wasn’t eligible for hormone replacement therapy. Searching for natural alternatives to treat my menopausal symptoms became a seemingly endless and expensive venture. One day I decided to look at the ingredients of the homeopathic solution I had been taking for many months. I was horrified to see that it contained estrogen! “Oh Lord, could this have caused the cells in my uterus to multiply as such a rapid rate?” Of course, the naturopath denied it when I asked him, but I am convinced it contributed to this cancer. I berated myself for being so gullible and not seeking the Lord before taking treatments. Hearing His voice did not come easily for me. Frustration and unbelief tormented me when I sought Him for answers to my questions. The silence was a sign of rejection I knew only too well. I didn’t like feeling like a failure. It reminded me of when I was a student at school. “Everyone else understands the math except you,” the enemy taunted. I believed the lie that I was stupid and not capable of learning. “What was I doing wrong? Why can’t I hear You? Are You angry with me and ignoring me God?”  I thought. Years later, I would understand His various ways of communicating with me as I pursue an intimate relationship with Him. My faith to hear continues to grow.

As I had done many times before, I intentionally forgave the naturopath whenever I felt anger towards him. As well, I needed to have grace for myself for making this careless mistake. Learning the hard way seemed necessary for me to grow. I didn’t really think about how the enemy wants to “steal, kill and destroy” (John 10:10a NKJV)

Several months passed when the hospital began to inquire as to when I would be returning to work. The thought of going back to shift work was frightening as I believed that the stress of those twelve-hour shifts contributed to this sickness. No one had advised me as to when I should return. I reluctantly agreed to a program of gradually returning to work six months after the hemorrhage. My co-workers greeted me warmly and were very supportive. I was unprepared for the emotional breakdown that I would have only two hours into my shift and for no apparent reason. What was happening to me? I wasn’t naturally a weeping woman, but here I found myself unable to hold back the unexplainable tears. My supervisor quickly sent me home with the admonition to “come back when I was ready to work.” Another harsh reaction greeted me from my husband as I entered our home. I was shocked and unprepared for his angry outburst when I desperately needed comfort and understanding. Why is he so angry? “Dear Lord, what is happening to me?” I cried. I have always been able to manage my emotions. My new family doctor offered no solutions. He suggested I apply for a psychiatric disability! Absolutely not! I rejected the idea of having to prove that I was mentally unstable in exchange for a monthly stipend. Thankfully, Holy Spirit led me to another doctor who was a knowledgeable, compassionate believer in Christ. He kindly asked me why I was trying to go back to work so soon. Apparently, patients like me should be off work for two years. Thank You Lord for your abundant grace. I would need more time for my hormones to balance out. Gradually over the years, my body has become accustomed to not having estrogen. Healing for my intestines has been a long, slow process. I continue to contend for their complete restoration. Sadly, my marriage ended two years after the cancer diagnosis. The most devastating moment of my life was when I discovered my husband’s adultery. My value seemed to shatter into a million pieces. I was grieved to the very depths of my soul. But God held me.  He carried and provided all that I needed through the months to come. He is faithful.

Living a single life for the past twenty-four years would not have been my first choice, but they have been rich years of discovery, growing in faith, overcoming fears and pursuing God’s purpose for my life. Untethered, I am free to live as a favoured daughter of the King of kings. I can honestly say that these last years have been the most rewarding ones of my whole life. I am thankful to God for giving me more time here on earth to serve Him and share my story. Be encouraged dear reader; God is for us and will take what the enemy intended for evil and turn it for good.

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. Lamentations 3:22-23(NKJV)

Give Him your whole life. He can be trusted with it.