Weeks of hideous pain bent me down,
doctor gave me asprin to ease the pain,
soon a blood test revealed the brutal force,
I had been inflicted with the worst...luekaemia.
Chemotherapy began the process off,
powerful but destructive drugs infused into my blood.
The only way out, but hideous pain,
cry out to God in the night.
He blesses his children with sleep.
But little did I know that the real pain was coming.
What is known as a bone marrow transplant,
was my only chance they said.
Chemotherapy was just a 1% chance
but if I could find a donor with identical stem cells,
I could have a 25-40% chance of cure, survival.
78% of sufferers never find a donor but something
interesting was there in my case....
God had given me my father's stem cells,
perfect for the transplant.
God doesn't work by percentages.
we trusted God with all our heart
my dad had had skin cancer,
any remaining melanoma would surely have taken my life.
The immense suffering of a bone marrow transplant can
not be put into words.
As I lay in my living nightmare I cried out to God,
who is always there.
Two days had gone past the limit to produce the blood
for me to survive.
Doctors with empty faces entered the room to share the
devastating news.
I needed a second transplant or I would surely die.
We were told the second transplant usually didn't
work, but was my only hope.
We needed a miracle from God, we felt his power fill
the room. Peace overcame fear, as we gave up control
to the almighty. Ashtonishment, joy, and disbelief was
felt by family, medical staff and doctors, were
shocked with the realization that the original stem
cells had begun to work. God performed a miracle and
the blood began it's count. Soon the graft had taken I
was on the road home. As I was discharged we prayed
that all would work.
Weeks of pain followed as my body fought to live. The
devastating pain was a real sick affair. I forced
myself on walks and to eat each day, but the immense
pain was more than I can say, was more than I can say.
As I struggled to live on and fight the sickness war
we were told by doctors that the cancer had returned.
Two weeks I was given but we had had enough. We were
ready to hand all to God. No more treatment I annouced
to the cancer doctor. Standing there I was in God's
hands then suddenly one day a double seizure struck me
down. Family gathered round to see my final hours.
Countless damage had racked my body leaving me half
dead. I couldn't walk, I couldn't see, my insides were
badly hurt, it seemed it was the end for me. Warrior
upon warrior around our distant globe kept the vigil
fight of prayer of power that can't be stopped and as
the folks cried out to God, He heard them and I live
to stand for him. A lot more special days. God has
given me peace and comfort all along. As I have cried
out to HIs grace the joy is overwhelming. He has the
power to heal, He has the power to save, as we trust
in his mercy we know that we are safe. I KNOW THAT I
AM HEALED!!!!!!!
Semanas de muita dor estavam acabando comigo.
O médico me deu uma aspirina pra aliviar a dor.
Logo um exame de sangue revelou o problema,
Era o pior dos castigos: leucemia.
A quimioterapia começou.
Drogas poderosas, mas destrutivas, injetadas no meu sangue.
A única saída, além da imensa dor,
Clamar a deus na noite,
Durante o sono ele abençoa seus filhos.
Mal sabia eu que a dor real estava por vir.
O que chamam de transplante de medula era minha única chance, diziam eles.
A quimioterapia só dava 1% de chances.
Mas, se eu arranjasse um doador com células medulares idênticas,
Eu teria de 25 a 40% de chances de sobreviver.
78% dos pacientes nunca encontram um doador.
Mas no meu caso tinha algo especial.
Deus me deu as células de meu pai, perfeitas pro transplante.
Deus não trabalha com porcentagens.
Confiamos em deus de coração, mas meu pai já teve câncer de pele.
Qualquer resto de melanoma poderia me tirar a vida.
O imenso sofrimento de um transplante de medula não cabe em palavras.
Deitado neste pesadelo acordado
Eu clamei a deus, que todo o tempo esteve lá.
Passaram-se dois dias do limite pra que eu produzisse sangue
Pra poder sobreviver
Os médicos, desanimados, entraram no quarto pra dar as terríveis notícias.
Eu precisaria de um segundo transplante, ou certamente morreria.
Ficamos sabendo que o 2º transplante geralmente não adianta.
Mas era minha única esperança.
Precisávamos de um milagre de deus.
Sentimos seu poder encher o quarto.
E a paz substituiu o medo
Quando demos o controle
Ao todo-poderoso.
Espanto, alegria e descrença tomaram a família.
Os médicos e equipes ficaram chocados com o acontecimento.
As células medulares originais começaram a funcionar.
Deus fez um milagre e o sangue começou com a produção.
Assim que a conta fosse paga eu voltaria pra casa.
Assim que recebi alta, oramos para que tudo desse certo.
Semanas de dor se passaram enquanto meu corpo lutava pra viver.
A dor devastadora me deixou literalmente doente.
A cada dia eu me esforçava pra andar e comer.
Mas a dor era indescritível.
Mais do que eu posso dizer...
Enquanto eu lutava pra viver e guerreava contra a doença
Os médicos avisaram que o câncer havia voltado.
Me restavam duas semanas de vida, mas eu já estava cheio disso tudo.
Estávamos prontos pra entregar tudo
A deus.
"chega de tratamento" eu disse aos médicos.
Lá estava eu nas mãos de deus.
Então um dia de repente uma crise me derrubou.
A família se reuniu pra ver minhas horas finais.
Um estrago incalculável em meu corpo me deixou meio morto
Não podia andar, não podia ver, minhas entranhas estavam detonadas.
Tudo indicava que era o fim pra mim.
Guerreiros no mundo todo se juntavam
Mantendo a força da oração, um poder que não se pode parar.
E quando o pessoal clamou a deus ele os ouviu, e eu vivo pra testemunhar por ele
Muitos dias especiais
No final, deus me deu paz e conforto.
Quando eu clamo por sua graça
A alegria é esmagadora.
Ele tem o poder de curar.
Ele tem o poder de salvar.
Se confiarmos em sua misericórdia
Sabemos que estamos salvos.
Eu sei que estou curado!
