top of page

Maria Ella Cabanlet

Updated: Jun 5


Maria Ella Regondola-Cabanlet, wife of Stephen Cabanlet (a Philippine Marine Officer), was diagnosed with Acute Myelogenous Leukemia (AML) at the Baguio General Hospital and Medical Center (BGHMC), Baguio City, Philippines. A sample of her biopsy was sent to the National Kidney and Transplant Institute (NKTI), Quezon City and confirmation was given regarding her diagnosis. She was confined at BGHMC for her first cycle of Chemotherapy last September 19, 2009.


Unluckily, her condition was complicated by sepsis and bleeding that almost cost her life. By the Lord’s grace, she was discharged after 47 days. From November 16-27, 2009, Ella had her second cycle of chemotherapy and with God’s grace, there were no infections and complications.


The final step of treatment is Stem Cell Transplant (Bone Marrow Transplant). There are only two hospitals in the Philippines that perform Stem Cell or Bone Marrow Transplant, namely: St. Luke’s Medical Center (SLMC), Quezon City and Makati Medical Center (MMC), Makati City. Stephen was given an official cost estimate of about P4.208M and for this procedure alone, Stephen will not be able to earn or loan within the military service.


Upon Stephen’s appeal letter from the Philippine Charity Sweepstakes Office (PCSO), the Board finally approved the amount of P1M as financial support for Ella. As of end-December 2009, the donations for Ella, Stephen’s savings and his Navy authorized medical refund have reached a total of P1.5M. If the PCSO support was counted, they would still need about P2.7M to complete the required amount. But with the grace of God, Stephen and Ella managed to raise the 4 Million and her Bone Marrow Transplant (BMT) was done at the St. Luke’s Medical Center on March 30, 2010. Ella has been in and out of the hospital since then.



Ella in her latest confinement at St. Luke’s in November 2010. To help Maria Ella through her recovery process, you can send her your donations by clicking on the paypal button.




From the Inside


Finally I am now admitted at the Bone Marrow Transplant Unit of St. Luke’s Medical Center. The agony of waiting is now being paid with a reward. Alone in the room, I had the glimpse of the day I received the worst news in my life. In retrospect, that day was not all bad news after all. The hope that I might have a chance to surpass the “usual six months” of a leukemia patient was given to us when our hematologist told us about the life saving procedure called “Bone Marrow Transplant”.


Our hematologist from Baguio said that the procedure that costs “about 4” has been done successfully here at SLMC. I asked her “Dr. 4? you mean 4 hundred thousand?” Her reply was ” no no no. It’s 4 MILLION pesos!” . . . .I felt like a child whose chocolate has been taken away! I did not know who cried harder, me or my husband. Even if we both cash advance our salary until our 100 years service we will never be able to get hold of that amount. The amount was just too impossible for us to raise. We did not know how to react, we both just sat down hugging each other from time to time. In my mind I was already preparing what to say to the children, how to say it without compromising their psychological milieu. “Murag gakumoton ang akong kasing kasing!”


How will you tell a 6,5 and 1 year old that you will be gone forever?! Sleep did not visit me that night, as I realized I spent very little time with my children being in the hospital always. I felt sorry for them and angry with myself for not having the foresight that death could come to anyone and “age does not matter”. I have accepted the fact that indeed I will be one of the many victims of leukemia. That my children will be like one of those insecure children that takes therapy sessions with me. I could never tell how painful it was! We wallowed in our loneliness for days. I could see the pain in my husband’s eyes. I know he wanted to appease me but he couldn’t as he himself needs to be appeased. We were both hurting so much for our children we did not know how to go about it. I wanted to console him but I don’t know how. I wanted to tell him I will be okay but then I would be lying. It was like getting caught in a maze, there is no way out for us. . . the prize was 4 MILLION PESOS.


My husband and I, we both believe that life is mastered by a Supreme Being who blesses man’s endeavor if it is in line with His perfect plan. Stephen who have been in many battles went above his weeping and just said “…in a battle as long as the officer is still alive there is always hope that the troop will win….”. I wanted to believe in him that time, but his high hopes were not contagious enough to uplift me. 4 MILLION PESOS WAS STILL 4 MILLION PESOS, nothing can reduce the price that I literally have to pay to save my life.


I am tired now! More to come tomorrow after O.R. if the Hickman catheter that will be placed in my chest will not hurt that bad. Tomorrow is officially my first day, today was just for my laboratories. Platelet is being prepared to be transfused for me as my platelet now is only 95.

 

by: Maria Ella Regondola-Cabanlet

Wednesday,

March 17, 2010 at 6:11pm



Tomorrow is my 30th day since I was discharged from the hospital. They said that most patients get readmitted in two to three weeks time because of acquired infection or LBM and I am lucky to be one of the few who reached the one month and counting period. Post transplant, especially the first 120 days, is the most difficult part of all. Most of the patients I have talked to would rather bury the memory in the deepest recesses of their mind. Sometimes I have to do the same to be able to sleep but it seems that the constant pain in my back would not make me forget. For a week now my low back pain although tolerable is such a nuisance. I can’t even sit long enough to read or do something else. If I force to sit down for a long time, the pain would shoot up at my nape area to my head. Three mornings ago I woke up unable to move my knees. They seemed to lock themselves and now give me discomfort when walking. I am not some sadist to enjoy all these but I am not complaining this time. I have been thru these pains and so much more .


What a way to celebrate the Easter Sunday of 2010, considering it was my first post transplant day. I happily announced to almost everyone that my ordeal was finally over. I successfully received and wholeheartedly accepted my sister’s bone marrow. I was just to wait for two to three weeks for the new bone marrow to engraft and produce the blood components I needed to survive. I was elated, euphoric even and I felt so free! I needed something to do, something that will help me on the days to come when the dreaded effects of chemo drugs and the possible start of GVHD will start. My goal was to defeat the physical symptoms through “mind over matter” and “Knowing your enemy”. I devoured books pertaining to medications and more. I acted as if I was back in med school. I thought I was ready to face my post transplant period ALONE but all my efforts were in vain for not one prepared me of what was to come.


My second week post transplant, my new bone marrow started to produce new blood cells. The same week I also woke up with one big, painful sore on my tongue. Forewarned, I did not worry about it confident that though it was painful, it was tolerable. I am all set to experience this pain most post transplant (patients) are all so afraid about. Mind over matter, my mind was ready. The following day another sore came out, and since then everyday a new one would just pop out of nowhere until my tongue became swollen and it would come out of my mouth. I could not speak because of the pain and at night I could not sleep, as besides the pain, saliva would flow up to my neck. Just with one sore it was painful enough, but with every inch of tongue, it was excruciatingly painful. The “one night popping” sore did not stop in the tongue. It also grew inside my throat and I believe up to my anus because every time I excreted, I writhed in pain. It would take me an hour plus buckets of sweat just to use the bathroom, which was more than five to six times a day. I could not eat; I could not speak because of severe pain 24 hours a day. I did my best to conquer the pain; I tried to suffer through it all on my own!


It was only at night that I could not hide the torture. In my few minutes of sleep I would dream that I was well playing with my children, and then the three of them would sit in my chest I could not breath, I would moan in pain. My sister would wake me up always telling me I sound like in too much pain, to which I would answer I was just having a bad dream. Even my mind refused to accept that I was in pain. Every day I waited for the doctor’s promise that the sore will go away one by one the way they came, instead it worsened. Everything that was given to me, from IV medication to per orem medication would cause severe abdominal pain. Even the simple magnesium and potassium that was supposed to be normal components of my body would make me crawl in my bed in pain. It felt like a sore rubbed with pepper. The “hotness” would creep into my skin and skin me alive. I stopped counting the coming weeks as the torture of my gut continued. I was already placed on TPN as I could not swallow anymore despite my willingness to.


For weeks they kept on asking me if I wanted the pain management team to come in, but I would answer “…I can take the pain; I have a very high threshold for pain….” I can make it, “mind over matter!” Although at one point in time when the pain was at its “best”, I was the one who requested for the pain management team to come in. “I needed someone, anyone to abate the pain.” I was then hooked on fentanyl drip. Like a miracle it helped lessen the pain and the relief was such a pleasure that I thought it was the best thing that ever happened in my life. The drip was under my own control, so I did not allow even a little discomfort as I would press it once I awakened so that not an atom of pain could touch me. The pain free feelings given by the fentanyl made me selfishly and horribly wish for death. I thought if my sickness will make me live this kind of pain all the time, then I would rather have a swift one. The sleep the fentanyl was giving me was an unimaginable relief. It gave me so much rest that I wanted to rest for good.


I was in this state for almost a week, wanting nothing but relief, wishing for things to be always that comfortable. Not even the voice of my husband would take me away from my comfort zone. Not even the voices of my angels (my children) would stop me from continually dripping myself with the only thing that made me feel satisfied (fentanyl). As their day of visit was always a Sunday, the last thing I would hear from them was we came from Sunday school and we have something for you. Works of art they do in Sunday school that I used to keep and cherish, but during that time, these works did not matter anymore. Then one day my eldest, my “warrior” child, asked “mom why are you always asleep when we visit, are you still tired? Dad said you are not getting well? Don’t you want to get well anymore?”


A seven year old, made to face the reality that his mom might not probably get well because she refuses to. It was my wake up call! As a mother, I have been so selfish, wishing for comfort. I had forgotten that they too (my little children) were made to make sacrifices of not having their mom long enough. I was so selfish I forgot that I promised that I will be with him on his 7th birthday, then on my second son’s 5th birthday. I promised that I will be there already before classes began, to tutor them with their homework. I promised that I would finish the make believe story of the three baboons which they love so much.


I was so selfish I forgot that I have given them hope that I would return to them and we will do so many things together. I realized that their longing for a mother and the fear they harbored was so much torturing than my physical pain. The sacrifices they were forced to take were so much more than mine, it made me so ashamed of myself. I was ashamed of my selfish wish for my own COMFORT. I did not think of the other people hoping unceasingly that I would take courage and do my very best to return to them. “…It is only by frequent repetition that a child learns her lesson….”. It occurred to me then that I was again under test! For the first time in three weeks that I was in pain, I thought of the One who had been watching over me during my entire ordeal.


After my successful second transplant attempt, through His higher way, I thought I could walk on my own the rest of the journey through “mind over matter”. I let go of my hold on Him the way I did when I got frustrated during my first transplant attempt. I freed myself from HIM in FRUSTRATION, I also freed from Him after VICTORY! When will I ever learn? What else WOULD He not and COULD not do for me? He has saved me so many times in my life and yet I wanted to be free of Him each time, for reasons I did not fully understand then! In whatever emotional state as long as I could see MY OWN WAY OUT, I detached from Him. My stubborn heart and my foolish dependence on what can be proven and tangible keeps me from fully comprehending that there is nothing in this earth that is not of Him. From the beating of my heart to the smallest sore I had, was all His and in His control. He used these to teach my heart the real meaning of the cliché that “…I will never make it here on earth or in heaven without Him….”. His reality and existence was too much for my human brain to grasp, that is why I refuse to believe it!


I thought I was already calling on Him when I said a prayer but actually the prayer I said was just like wishful thinking for someone that is unseen. As before praying I already had MY OWN plans. In His mercy and hard to comprehend love for me, He made my last forty days stay in the BMT unit an experience of His reality and His ever presence in my life. For the nth time Jesus Christ called me again to “rest in Him”, and I responded the way I did before. Only this time I became aware that He had and has another invitation for me which I fail to hear before. A very soft invitation to “…abide, live, dwell, endure, await, and stand firm with Him….” He opened my eyes to the truth, again my always spoken yet not heartfelt truth, that I JUST COULD NOT LIVE APART FROM HIM!


I do have my choice not to, but His love for me would not stop Him from reaching out to me until like a child I will fully LEARN. In my present pain and in my present situation I am always attacked by the thought that I am an imbecile. MY human pride tempts me to feel useless to myself, my husband, kids and society. These thoughts always brings me down to melancholia. I am learning to counter it with God’s words, with His command that “a man should remain in the situation where he is being called to.”


In my daily reflections He always reminds me to “…shield myself with faith, use His word as sword, protect my heart with His righteousness, and wear my shoes of humility…..” all the time. I don’t really know until when I will be like this. I don’t really know how He sees me to be of service to Him this way. All I know is it took Him years to polish “Joseph the dreamer” before He placed him to the fore. Joseph, on his end just waited upon the Lord for he knew and understood completely that Jesus Christ’s way is the best way now and for always! He cheerfully served Him with the understanding that it is not the situation but the “hands” behind the situation (victory or frustration) that should be the focus of his attention!

 

by: Maria Ella Regondola – Cabanlet

Wednesday at 9:48pm

June 10,2010


DEATH is an inevitable reality that freezes everyone with fear. Less powerful than love yet it has more capacity than love to change a person’s perspective in life. As the last days of my isolation comes near, thoughts of DEATH haunts me more often. The idea of reflecting about it is very depressing, but I have to as it pre-occupies my mind. I guess this is my last task in my transformation, conquering my own FEAR over my inevitable extinction. If during my “sepsis” days I was dying, then the experience “of dying” is not very scary, initially at least.


The process was like a dream, nothing painful as I clearly saw with my dead paternal grandmother. She (my grandmother) was so alive in this glimpse thus fear of her being dead in reality never crossed my mind. She was holding a very clean, white mosquito net to which she wanted me to get inside as she said I will be bitten by mosquitoes. She used to do that when I was a child, she knew I hated using mosquito nets. Lovingly she would try to tuck me into it but I fervently refused saying it felt so hot to sleep in, then I would come out of my wits and realize that I was in a hospital bed and she would vanish. Every time that I was out of my wits, it was my grandma, sometimes with other old dead people I knew (all of them carrying mosquito nets) that I would be with. All of them, though not in a scary way, would try to convince me to get inside their nets. It was a pleasure to be with my grandmother once more so I welcomed her daily company with serenity.


This serenity though was disturbed when at some point the dream changed. Replaced with a scene where I was on top of a very dark hill frozen in fear! It was so dark I couldn’t even see my own hands and it felt as if something or someone around me will just grab and tear me to pieces if I moved. I felt helpless as the darkness was so intense, my feet would not even move at my command to step forward. I have never been that scared in my life, and my only hope was a distant well lighted city that was too far to run to. In my desperation, I was in the verge of succumbing to my fear when I realized that there was Someone in the dark with me that did not emanate fear. I was not alone in the dark. I could not see His face but I felt His presence. I also realized that the darkness became lighter. He did not say a word but I felt that He was also looking at the distant city full of lights.


Then a passage from the book of life,“…..Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death. I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff they comfort me….” seemed to have been whispered to me. These words gave me strength to take one step forward towards the well lighted city. That single step brought me back to BGH with several doctors and nurses around me. I was in dopamine drip and a “code” was about to be called have not my palpatory BP picked up. It was not my time yet!


For a cancer patient in sepsis, death is more than a cousin. It was what I expected when I took that one step during my near death experience. Everything just point to what seemed to be my end, even the passage given to me, such as “…valley of death…”. Even the lighted city, I thought it was His city already waiting for my final destiny. But in His not to be questioned plans, He awakened me still in my own physical body. Deep in my heart now I firmly believe that God alone holds the switch of my breath. What makes me ponder right now was the sudden rush of courage I felt upon hearing His words of assurance that“…He was with me, with His rod and staff to comfort me….”. What power did it give me that I took that one brave step forward towards what I thought was my rupture. A test of faith that I passed because of the power of His words of assurance that I was not alone in my darkness.


When I woke up still in my earthly form, I firmly believed it in my heart that only God can say when will be my appointed time, not my sickness or anything else. I have been told so many times by so many people (my husband included) that I am still alive because I still have a mission. What is this important thing that I could do for the Lord? I could think of nothing, for the Lord lacks nothing. There is nothing I can do to add up to His greatness, He is who He is, the supplier of all the things that I need. He does not need anything from me as much as I need so much from Him. His ONLY requirement of me is to live every minute of my day dedicated to HIM alone. Does this mean I have to have a perfect, sinless day? Or that I will not do anything anymore for my life but pray every minute? Definitely not, for if that is the requirement I would surely fail every minute of every day.


In moments when I still myself, trying to soothe myself from fears of uncertainty, I hear the same spirit I heard during my near death experience telling me that “….MY yoke is easy and MY burden is light….”, much lighter and easier than the yoke I try to hook upon myself. I now understand that the yoke He was talking about is my acceptance of where I am and what I have right now. But what do I have right now? Humanly speaking I have nothing; no family to cook for, no morning rush to the hospital for work, no bankbook to update, no activity to attend, no badminton games and yet I live each day satisfied. God’s words “…MY yoke is easy and MY burden is light….” is so true. Life is easy, happy, and satisfactory if lived in His way! In Him “…there is nothing else that I shall want!…” blessings that I truly need just keep on coming my way, our way (my entire family) without tiring effort. The blessing of peace and satisfaction are flowing non-stop.


Why am I still alive? In my limited human mind I am still alive because I am just not ready to face my Maker yet. He loves me so much He does not want to lose me in any way! He has “…broken my will, but not my spirit…” through this sickness, reminding me of His power above all things. He has given me new life through the transplant procedure, making sure that I am reminded that there is nothing impossible for Him.


Now in my last 30 days or so of isolation He is gently remolding me. Every day He “prunes” out all the bad buds in my soul as I remain and will remain imperfect and sinful while here on earth. He is very gentle in His “pruning” though as He still makes sure I enjoy every beautiful thing that He has made in this earth. And I believe He does this so that I would look forward to His appointed time without FEAR.


Are my thoughts now depressing? At some point I have to admit that it is, after all, the topic is about death! Personal experience of near death never fails to turn a person’s life 360 degrees as it entails unfathomable fear. Two things I grasp about death; one is that it is inevitable so I never need to fret over it. In the meantime, I am commanded to enjoy everything to the fullest, one day at a time while waiting for my day. The second thing is that death will not take me until my Maker permitted it. He will not take me until I am good enough for reaping. I am (as well as everyone) precious to Him, He does not want to lose me, thus He would break and remold me again and again if He has to until I learn how to chose the right path on every crossroad that I meet in my earthly time.


Death indeed has its power to freeze my every nerve, but God’s love is more powerful I could cross the darkest valley with courage and without fear, so why Fear.


“…Only today is yours, tomorrow is the Father’s….”

- Andrew Murray

 

by: Maria Ella Regondola-Cabanlet

July 7, 2010,

When All Are Gone


I am reluctant to make any kind of “updates” the past few days, as putting my mind into words seems to be a hard “task” for me these days. It must be the long term effects of my medications that is slowing my neurons down, as I have been on these drugs for almost four months now. Good thing that two of them were already withdrawn and one is being tapered as my laboratories (except my liver profile) are almost normal. The plan is to have most of my medications removed before the end of August, as these drugs can cause potential harm when used for a prolonged period. Potential danger of prolonged use includes recurrence of leukemia, damage to other organs and myriads of changes in me physically, mentally and emotionally.


I am now in the period of re-adjusting myself back to “normal” and am starting with my youngest son who, among my three sons, was the most deprived in terms of time spent with me. Something indescribable beats in my heart whenever I try to lift him up but could not sustain for even five minutes. I can see in his eyes that he is as frustrated that I cannot cuddle him longer. I could not explain to him (he is only 19 months old) that my spine hurts real badly whenever I lift him up and try to play with him. The painful reality is not only that I could not play with him at his present age, but the fact that my physical ability may never return to me anymore. Every move I make is done in slow motion. It is as if my muscle had acquired a “mind” of its own, where it now controls the pacing of my physical activity. Even brushing my teeth and writing is an effort as my fingers would go into clonuses if forced to do work. If I walk fast, my calf muscle will suddenly contract itself painfully as if to remind me I am doing things very fast, that I am not calm, and that I am not fully resting.


Is this God’s way of fulfilling His word to me that “I will give you rest”? If I will be able to come into terms with this truth, the answer will be yes it is. My corporeal being is in the twilight of acceptance and struggle to regain complete control of my physical being. I find it hard to accept that at my age I have to slow things down already, that I will never be able to beat the day by accomplishing more than its number of hours. Being in a predicament beyond my control, I will have to come to terms with Him who is all knowing. For reasons He only knew, I am physically remolded. “MY OWN” strength is gone, and I am left with “SERENITY”!


“…Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest….”

- Matthew 11:28


Organizing thoughts and putting them into words is one of the things I can do easily. It comes naturally for me that I never thought it can be “taken” away from me by anything, not even this sickness. The thought that I still have my mental faculty in its full capacity made my acceptance of my physical limitation a lot easier. Since I was confined, I do nothing but read, write, update myself on things both important and not. All these done to make sure that the seat of my human knowledge will not be affected by both the sickness and medicines. To my dismay, I guess this once unappreciated gift will not be spared. I feel it is being taken away too, as collecting and collating thoughts for me these days is an effort. I struggle and refuse to let go as I have to be the master of “MY OWN THOUGHTS”. My words should be chosen by my own brain, nothing should be spontaneous, and everything should be consciously picked so it will have an impact on those who are reached. Shamefully I use the name of my Deity, but in my heart is hidden the boasting that they are my words, therefore my credit.


In His great plan for me though, He needs to take away and remold even my human knowledge. Just like my body, my brain now is tired of struggling. I have come to terms with the fact of its limitations. HIS great purpose has to be revealed in HIS own words, not mine. The credit had to be HIS, not mine. I can never be wise or intelligent unless He feeds me with it. My effort to be one will only lead to my unrest. “MY OWN” knowledge is gone, and I am left with “WISDOM”!


“…I am determined to be wise – but this was beyond me…”

- Ecclesiastes 7:23


Too caught up in my emotional web since I got sick, I feel nothing but pity for myself. Day after day I have to convince myself that I am alright, I am blessed, and that it is with reason that my life’s potential is cut off at its midst. With my training I have succeeded in counteracting this self pity for almost a year now. I smile in the face of nothingness, I blabber in the midst of uncertainty, and I even entertain others with my seemingly hopeless situation. I was able to solidly convince myself that I will survive the emotional turmoil brought by my illness, by being emotionally well balanced. I focused myself on myself alone, never looking at the periphery lest my balance will be toppling down. Two or three fellow patients attempted to talk to me, some non-cancer patients tried reaching out to me but I ignored them all. I am in too much pain that I cannot allow other people’s pain to add up, otherwise my balance will be disturbed and I may not survive even for a second. I labor to achieve a positive outlook. Let them find ways to heal themselves too.


I have built strong bricks around my heart. I am emotionally intangible. Always on my guard to keep the bricks on hold, I am starting to tire. Lately I am starting to become irrationally “emotional” over a lot of co-patients during my checkups at the BMT OPD. As if my eyes were suddenly opened, I am starting to see them from a different perspective and I could not make myself see their pain objectively. To the very young cancer patients, I feel that they are more deprived than I am. To the older ones, I feel their struggle to hold on to what little time they have. To some who have just been diagnosed, I sympathize with their hardship and struggle in accepting what had hit them. They are all pain, pain that I used to experience yet deny. Spontaneously and unknown to me, my guard for self preservation is out of my hands. I had allowed myself to be lost in other people’s pain. My heart not only bleeds for my fellow cancer patients but also for others who clearly manifests the heavy loads that maybe unknown to them. These people are all just like me, strong people who knew how to manipulate perfectly their emotions to their advantage, thinking that contentment is at hand. Unconsciously though, the shout for the search for something more quenching is clearly manifested in the manner they send their emails.


When I am conscious and lost in other people’s pain, when “MY OWN” emotional sense of stability is gone, I am left with “CONFIDENCE”. Confidence in Jesus Christ that HE is working in my life here on earth to secure my eternity by being a channel of HIS love for everyone.


“….The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave HIMSELF for me…”

- Galatians 2:20


The changes and still ongoing changes in me are not easy as it involves first and foremost HUMILITY. The acceptance that I now exist with so many limitations, require my utmost humility and obedience. Limitations on the matters I used to enjoy so much (seeing my patients which took up 80% of my time, going out with friends, playing badminton) but also take up so much of my time. I disregard the more important ones (I spend less than 5% with my children).


As they say “…All are permissible, but not all are beneficial…”. I thank the Lord for steering the course of my life to what is beneficial, and with gladness I accept the PEACE that comes along with it! The remolding that has been done and still being done entails PATIENCE! I thought I could not stand the wait, and that so much more will be asked. Then when I stopped struggling, I realized in fact that it was easy, for it only requires keeping a still and quiet heart.

I thank the Lord for teaching me the discipline of quietness, and with gladness I accept the PEACE that comes along with it! Like a larva ready to metamorphose into a beautiful butterfly, I am coming out soon! To enjoy God’s gifts that are vital and beneficial for my existence, and to radiate to many people the LOVE and COMPASSION of GOD through CHRIST JESUS! WHEN ALL ARE GONE, I AM PARADOXICALLY FULLER THAN I USED TO BE!

 

by: Maria Ella Regondola – Cabanlet

July 28, 2010

Tuesday at 7:22am

God’s Gift . . . My Strength and My Shield


Almost ten years ago I also wrote about this man. I am not a writer but the article (which was published in the official paper of PMC) came from the deepest part of my heart that many who were able to read it were moved because it was genuine. It was about my sentiment as a young bride, left off by her young marine officer husband three days after our wedding day. He left because he was needed in Mindanao during which the fight between the Government and its enemy was at its height.


“It is my duty to defend helpless people in Mindanao from the tyranny of the government’s enemy” was all he said to me when asked if he could stay a while longer. Relatively just out of his beloved academy, he was full of ideals and thought of nothing but service for his country. In the simplest way, many were able to relate to me and appreciated their husbands’ efforts to function both as head of their family and the unsung hero of our country.


With God as his protector, this tall, dark, Marine stayed for several years in the “area” fighting battles. Ruthless to the enemies, he was the “Braveheart” of my life. God first, his country second, were over and above his own personal whims. For me, he was a true selfless patriot. He remained loyal to everything he stood for before we got married, an unsung hero of some sort, of the country, AFP, and Marine Corps. Who else can be prouder than the woman behind this man?


But at some point I stopped being mesmerized by his selflessness. It felt like he was too much of a hero for others, for even when he was no longer in the “field” he was still always at work. Always thinking, planning, and doing something for the office he was being assigned to. Everywhere he went, he was always into improving things that needed improvement, believing in his heart that consolations follow one’s love for his work. Although my heart bled for him knowing that he was under-appreciated and undervalued at times, I torture him by subtly letting him feel that he was neglecting me and the children, that he was effortless in keeping his family happy and that he loves me less. He was a hero no more in my perception; but he just continued doing what he was doing despite my waning support.


Ten years of marriage is not an assurance that you know your better half that well! I judged him wrongly when I thought of him as someone who does not care for me. When I was diagnosed to have an AML, he showed me that he will be there for me too when I needed him most. There was never a time that he was not at my side. Without hesitation he gladly accepted the RHAC he was placed into, despite knowing the fact that it is something that would surely hurt his military career. He did not mind not being able to follow the military pattern he wanted so much until he saw me well and out of danger.


I am now sure that heroism is something innate in him, helping those in need, be it a family member or anybody else. I now clearly see that selfless act of disregarding his own need to be with his bride during the battle in Mindanao was genuine! He is not perfect! He snores loud, he disturbs my sleep. His mouth stays open in our long talks and he looks at me as if I talk in Chinese. He hates reading and deliberately misinterprets things to get away with reading. He is not funny. He has all the imperfections I thought I could NOT live with.


But all these imperfections are compensated by HIS FEAR AND LOVE FOR THE LORD! No one may ever know how loyal he is to this country, he may never get the chance to realize the goals and good visions he has for the present organization where he belongs, but as his partner in life I would always thank the Lord he was born so that I can have and possess the greatest gift I can have in this lifetime!


As I rejoice in my first victory over my cancer I have to thank him for being obedient to the Sovereign Lord’s command on the day we got married . . . For richer and for poorer, in SICKNESS and in health, till death do us part. Finally I thank GOD that I come only second in my husband’s heart, as Jesus Christ is the first! He may commit mistakes along the way, but I am assured he will return to the right path as his loyalty is to HIM!

 

by: Maria Ella Regondola Cabanlet

August 3, 2010,

Tuesday 1:54pm


Indeed “The night is darkest before the break of dawn.” In my eight month post transplant period the scourge inflicted upon my body and mind become stronger. With each strike a groan for pain is inevitable, with each strike cuts are getting deeper I can no longer contain it I have to air complain. I have no escape! I cannot run away, a barrier is installed right in front of me. Not a mountain that I could go around about but a wall so long and so high I could not climb. Whatever courage left in me is slowly fading away; whatever strength left in me is no longer enough for me to take even a single step forward. Why finality takes so long to come?


It is of preference, I am ready. I have been since my second admission this month. I no longer consider it selfishness or unfair for my husband and children to wish for final rest for even them is forced to take part in the suffering. They have done their part; they have taken more than their portion of bitterness. I cannot let them be hurt much longer, no matter what they say a single hard blow is a lot better than moderate constant scourge. Though not cornered I rest, not to reflect just to rest and stop fighting. I wanted to “switch off” my thinking but even that eludes my will.


Even in my despair GOOD things of the past flashback for a split second. Have I not experienced wellness two months ago? Have I not been back on my feet enjoying household chores and my family? In all abnormalities of my other organ system isn’t my cancer cured? In the abnormality of my liver isn’t my bone marrow working well already? Why don’t I succumb to profuse bleeding with my abnormal clotting factors? Is this not my third sepsis? Why am I still alive? Don’t I have a man whose love and devotion to me and our marriage been tested by what seems to be an element hotter than fire? Don’t I have three beautiful children whose emotional quotient is more than genius? As they (our kids) do perfectly well in every aspect despite the constant sorrow in their hearts. What am I missing? Oh I know, I am missing the flicker of light in what I perceive as total darkness. I struggled to have a comfortable life and I did not get it. Now I wish for worst but neither that was given.


My life is truly not in my hands! “Only God can do all things; and no plan of His can be thwarted” (Job 42:2). His plans are so hard to accept because at the moment they seem so horrible and unfathomable. But “Who is this that obscures my counsel without knowledge” (Job 42:3). Indeed who am I to interfere with His plans for me? Didn’t Job in his blind faith emerge victorious in the end? He did not only become more blessed with earthly things. More than a blessing for his life is in history used by many who lose hope because of affliction. His misfortune is now used as an example to give hope, to never give up and to wait upon the Lord in every impossible situation.


With assurance thru His words I know that I am in a plan designed for His greater glory, thus, it is good for me. I will hold on tightly to this lovely passage “For I know the plans I have for you, plans to proper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and future” (Jeremiah 29:11). So right now I decided to stand up and start walking again. I don’t have any choice nor do I? My life will not be taken unless it is time, even if I stop I will be in the same situation so I might as well keep on going. Who knows I may just be few steps away from His goal for me. As to the seemingly tall and long wall in front of me, is not Mt Everest the known tallest mountain on earth has lost its prestige to a lame? Is there anything permanent in this lifetime? I can think of nothing! Both good and bad fade away.


This moment of my lifetime shall also pass, as to when only He can tell. Bravely now I will keep on walking, where to? I don’t have an answer, but hopefully towards that small ray of light. Until when will I go on? WITH BLIND FAITH I WILL WALK UNTIL THE BREAK OF DAWN . . .

 

by Maria Ella Regondola Cabanlet

Wednesday, December 8, 2010 at 12:56pm


At the onset of my illness, a very good friend of mine sympathized with me. I felt her deep sadness along with a question that until now still lingers in my mind. After all, (with) the kind and encouraging words she uttered, she also asked me – “…I just wonder why this happened to you when both you and Stephen (are a) very prayerful and Godly couple?…”


The question offended me (at) that time, but (later) I realized that the question was more for herself than mine. I felt great woe for her. That feeling of woe (for) my friend made me ask myself what kind of life I was showing others back then. Surely after I have received Jesus Christ in my life years before my sickness I made it a point to do my part in making Him seen in all my endeavors.


In all my struggles I call upon Him, in blessings after blessings I give thanks to Him. I never fail to mention Him to people each (day) they come for non therapeutic advice. I thought that I was already doing what God wants me to do for Him in my everyday living. Looking back, I can say I have been up and down my own little hills in life. I always get to the peaks of these hills. Down on my knees throughout med school especially during board exams, I was able to make it despite financial difficulty.


I remember I used to just feel so much for my batch mates who had the capacity to waste their time and money in med school while I have to stern, work double time, and never really enjoyed the days. I know I had scarred many hearts back then as they perceived me as someone hard to approach and never easy to get along with. Little did they know that the “id” behind my facade is envy of their good and comfortable life. I have compensated this need (envy) by “not being one of them” all the more. I have placed myself in solitude, seeking and searching why my heart (was) always in turmoil. I pray, I get calmed but like opium my prayer does not last very long. My mind is right but I always feel that my heart is always wrong as it was never at peace, and I did not see the reason why for I was making it better than the others.


My marriage to my husband (was) the highest hill peak I had reached. He made me more anchored to God, made me more at peace with myself, made me more confident with myself. It was a relief finding someone who would take you as you are. I (didn’t) have to be brainy (my strongest defense from all my inadequacy) with him all the time. But our union was not at the peak all the time. In fact, it was about to go downhill early on as it was tested by infidelity early at its stage. Took me years to forgive, and until now I still remember the pain of the worst thing anyone can do to someone, betrayal! My love for him never allowed me to tell anyone about it so I suffered alone not wanting to destroy his image of a God fearing person. It was a good thing that truly he is a God fearing person, and that situation was just a one event. Through prayers, God did not allow my pride and pain to destroy us. The Lord won the battle that I thought I could never make. I chose psychiatry as (a) medical specialty perhaps to help myself (in) the first place.


One school of thought (that a) psychiatrist believes is that “one’s” behavior is determined by her “id”. As “id” is that part of the mind that is always for pleasure, comfort and release, I may have been in the field because I wanted to find the peace I (had) been looking for everywhere. For even when my mind (was) right, I (felt) that there (was) something wrong in my heart. I did find myself, knowing my own psychodynamics and all, and it gave me peace at the beginning. Knowing me though was not the answer. The jungle I was into still ate me up and made me more a monster. Competing with others is(was) my worst weakness. I always (had) this need to prove my supremacy over others. I (did) a lot of extra reading, extra work, extra of everything and I shout(ed) it to the world. I needed to be appreciated! Although it was part of my psychodynamics, I just did know how to treat it. I (was) stressed and just plain tired but could not stop. My “id” was just too powerful than my “ego” and “super ego” combined. In my inner struggles I (kept) working for the Lord through lip service, showing that I (was) Christian in my walk in life but deep inside, God as my opium just did not work anymore.


My personal relationship with Christ, which (was) the only thing He require(d) of me, was no longer there. Now my friend’s question struck me as very valid and relevant to all that (had) happened and (was) happening. How come my sunny life (had) been made gloomy with thundering rain despite my struggle to be in allegiance to the Supreme Being. It was after all an utmost effort to show His presence in my life despite not feeling Him, thus it deserve(d) good blessing(s) instead of sickness. “God sees through the heart”! “He is all knowing” and “there is NOTHING, absolutely nothing that can be hidden from HIM”. “He knows my every thought, he knows the deepest part of my heart and He knows MY EVERY NEED!” He saw my struggle, He perceived the tiredness of my heart and He saw my need for rest.


The unrest in my soul (was) His reason for placing me in my present SITUATION. He wanted to tell me that I am more important than what I do. My happiness and my comfort are more important than my need to be appreciated by others. He wanted to tell me that I have no idea who He is and my perspective of Him is far from the truth I know. In my present solitude He wanted to tell me of my NEED FOR LOVE. LOVE (is) a very powerful emotion that can both build and destroy.


Even the biblical definition of love is so hard to achieve as it is a perfect manifestation of something that seemed to be just a concept. “Love is patient and kind.” The book of life says. “Love does not envy, it does not boast, and it is not proud.” “Love is not rude, it is not self seeking, it is not easily angered, and it keeps no records of wrongs.” I could “act out” this definition of love but I find it difficult to feel. I am exactly the opposite of all of these therefore it is so difficult for me. Is he giving me something difficult to achieve? Something that would make me crawl on my knees just to perform? Is He making my life more miserable? Of course not! As He opens my eyes in my daily reflection, it dawned on me that the LOVE that I NEEDED is not the emotional one. It is Jesus Christ Himself. He is the perfect manifestation of love, He turn the concept of LOVE to reality. He is kind, patient, not rude, not easily angered, and KEEPS NO RECORD OF WRONG! I can love easily if I walk with the source of love Himself. Such a beautiful realization of Him, it touches the core of my heart! I find it hard to love because I never have or I never allowed the SOURCE of love Himself to dwell (and I to dwell in Him) in me completely. As I go back to my friend’s question which I perceive(d) as tantamount to asking “Is my sickness a punishment?”


I believe that punishment is not of this lifetime! In fact this lifetime is meant for pure happiness and comfort; for I believe this (life) is (just a) glimpse of what is to come. He meant for me to enjoy every good thing that He had ever made, to give me an idea how much better it is in the next. This sickness is just His, just one of those reminders He already had made me experience before. So many times He had worked in my life but I have never yielded. He has no other way now but to break me completely, reminding me that my “days here on earth is numbered” and that “my life is in His hands”. Done out of LOVE, He is now in my everyday isolation, gently moulding and remolding me into better person.


My sunshine will come out soon and I am looking forward to what He has in store for me. This time my hope is that my life will not be like a “clanging cymbal” or a “resounding gong” as I learn to LOVE in His perspective. I hope to reflect, without effort or struggle, that a personal relationship with God, my walk with LOVE Himself is the only thing required. “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of this is LOVE.” (1Cor.13:13)

 

by: Maria Ella Regondola-Cabanlet

December 17, 2010,

Friday, 6:14 am



When I decided to keep on threading the path bestowed upon me, I have prepared myself for a long wait. I have made”patience” as my everyday mantra as I expect more pain and unexpected abnormal laboratory results for several months, and even years, more. When I finally learned about how to keep my heart and my soul still and quietly wait for everything that I hoped for, nothing took long to materialize. As my implanted bone marrow nears its first birthday, the strength of my physical body also parallels its improvement.


In my heart I truly believe that it is God’s mighty power through the healing hands of Christ Jesus that slowly normalized my condition. In HIM I am confident that my leukemia is just the vessel of the gift that HE wants to impart on me as well as everyone. The gift of knowing and accepting what I am only good at and the humility of not forcing myself to be what I wanted to be for self service. The gift of knowing from the heart that nothing is happier, and most comforting than living life doing HIS will for me even if it meant forgetting what I wanted so much but (which was) not of His will.


Ah how difficult it is to reflect on life when all is well! Took me days, no months rather, to come up with something despite the clearness of my head. I can think better and faster when nothing was comfortable, when I was drunk with my medication and drowning in pain. Ideas and thoughts full of what I consider as wisdom float around my cerebrum, so nauseous I have to get rid of them through writing. Out of the two hundred possible talents, gifts from God, that a person can possess, I thought I have writing as one of them.


But just like my uttered words, writing is the reflection of what my heart contains. When someone asked me why was I not writing anymore I answered “I don’t know. Perhaps I have nothing more to tell.” It struck me then that writing is not my talent! I realized I could only write because I was very emotional, and when the deep strong, sad emotion was over I am back to just being a reader of others who really was gifted in writing. For the nth time I am retreating, but this time not as an eagle in pain but as an eagle looking for a place in this world. If writing is not my way of doing God’s will, what is my use for HIM.


Reminiscing on the recent past, I figured I was taught patience because it was a necessity. It was needed to survive this lifetime that is full of discontentment. In the process of learning patience I was required to learn self control. I was required to be still and very quiet despite the urge to do things my mind thought I could do.


Self control meant submitting to the situation and refusing to find an answer as to the “why”. This is tantamount to getting stripped of pride and be dressed with humility. Oh humility, the key to unfathomable peace and unwavering satisfaction. Humility is the patience sword and shield to this world’s dissatisfaction.


So where is this writing going? I don’t know either, I am just thinking out loud! All I am saying is that I don’t have to find my place in this world, I am already in place. I may not have the talent for writing, but my sickness has given me the chance to write. If not for my leukemia I will not learn the essence of being a mother and a wife. I may not be able to become the psychiatrist I was hoping to be but my God given knowledge in this field can be used anywhere and everywhere as long as I strive for excellence in everything I touch.


Like Midas, I will use my walk with leukemia as the gold turning hand useful for many but brings wrath to Midas. But unlike Midas, I will not fret on my inconvenience rather use it and rejoice in it. As one who once had leukemia, I will be the best leukemia patient ever! But I refuse to be called a leukemia survivor, for being a survivor meant I have been a victim, which I also refuse to accept.


As I have stated, leukemia was the vessel of all God’s gifts for me, so I prefer to be called favored!



by Ella Mia Regondola Cabanlet Saturday, March 12, 2011 at 7:23pm


Here I am again, very late at night trying my luck on my brain freeze. For the past months since my last update, I could not make up my mind on what to say to people who had been following my blog. There are at least several people; I could count them in my fingers, who asked me to give them an update for several …times.


God knows I tried to write but I could not come up with something inspiring. Many times I tried to start typing, but I never get to finish any of them as I feel that it not I who is writing. The words that I were able to come up all seemed superficial, it does have the right feeling that it should have. So sugar-coated it is not honest, so baloney in so many ways. Yes it could inspire but just like all other copied and recopied sayings and thoughts, it will all be cliché. My ability to come up with inspiring words parallels the emotion I have when I am troubled. Like sea tides that only make sound when driven by a raging wind, I need something to force me to give out strength that even a seawall could not refuse to yield.


Not everyone respond to difficulty in the same way, in the same way everyone responds to beauty differently. But it is consistent as consistent to listen to the words of somebody who has been through a lot, even if it is just for awhile. The heart has its own wisdom, and it is deeper than the mind. The sudden burning compassion for the ones in turmoil can make a mountain bow down despite its majesty. But as sudden as the burst of its fire thus it cools down.


At the height of my difficulty I was as fearless as a lion, as light-footed as a cat walking in precision towards a clear goal. My last admission in November 2010, seemed to be the finale of my tale, after which my body has been so accustomed to being abnormal it has become my normality. I do not mind having liver enzymes the value triple than normal as long as the abdominal pain that goes with still allows me sleep at night. I have savored the kindness of summer that I have forgotten everything even the purpose of my continued existence. I simply went back to the old me, as stiff as a rod, following the path of my own dictate and worrying for tomorrow, the day that may not even come.


Like a tree awaiting the first ray of the sun at dawn, I was full of hope that the sunshine will make me the better person I planned to be when I was still bedridden. That after all I have been through, I was just waiting for the sun to so I can position myself under it so I can execute and finish my purpose in this lifetime. In the darkness I thought I needed the sun so I can be useful to humanity. Alas! Sunshine brings me too much happiness, it is not good for my soul. Its radiance is too beautiful, it is blinding. And what am I without my soul?


My sickness has granted me the privilege of learning handful of wisdom, the most important of which is the fact that I live so I have a chance to redeem my soul. The sun is mighty in itself; in its splendor it can burn those who are not careful. My own sun has purged out the sincerity in my heart to be inspiration for others. I only stopped to admire its majesty but it made me hold on to it, I could not bring myself to continue my journey. Like a tree I am too drained I could not share anything to anyone anymore. In a matter of months I will fully recover, I will not have anything to be worried about. My sun will shine brighter; much “happiness” is sure to come and so as emptiness. Emptiness so different from the one I had when my struggle was physical disability, emptiness borne out of not being able to be of use to others. Emptiness that comes along with happiness, I am lonelier now that I am happy.


I need rain; yes I do need rain just like a tree that that longs for a shower after standing still for a long time under the sunshine. Like the tree that sways in the lullaby of the wind that comes along with the rain, my will takes the shape of my tragedy. I then follow not my own dictates but that of the ONE that commands everything, I get molded beautifully. Resiliency is not the capacity to oppose pressure; rather, it is the ability to take the shape of the pressure without being broken. Perhaps I am one of those who respond to beauty differently, and because of this I was given the path so hard to fathom.


My Master knows that I am better off with struggle, for through it I become useful. My place in the sun is always beneath some dark clouds and little rain. He knows it is where I can be my best! I welcome rain, I welcome struggle!

 

by Maria Ella Regondola-Cabanlet

Thursday, August 4, 2011 at 12:18am


Sleep has eluded me again for three straight nights now. This reminds me of my favorite borrowed dictum that “….sleep is the only thing that I could not achieve by trying harder….”. I try so hard to rest! My mind keeps on marching back to March 30, 2010. On this date two very significant things happened: It was my eldest son’s 7th birthday; and it was the date I was to have my bone marrow transplant. It was not me who chose the schedule, that was why I gave a significant “magical” meaning to it. I thought it was God’s greatest gift to my son – his mom’s new life on his own birth date.


The mixed affect was clear in the bone marrow transplant unit that date. All the staff nurses were there, the entire BMT team, the other specialists involved were just around the hospital premises, my husband was there, and I knew many people were saying prayers for me that day. My donor sister called me up early from her own hospital room telling me that it will just be a matter of hours and that God was with us. She was wheeled off to the operating room at seven AM, while I waited in my bed laconic. I was maybe anxious, despite mind setting, but I was full of hope for the second chance the Lord was giving me. I really felt like grasping Him and hugging Him only if He was tangible that time. My heart was full of thought of Him, there was no doubt in my mind that I will speak about Him the rest of my earthly life!


An hour later, I was given sedative/anxiolytic and was told that in 15 minutes time the transplant will start. Fighting off the effects of the sedative, I felt that I was hooked to a cardiac monitor, vital signs were checked, and the cardiology team came in giving the green sign that the transplant may be started. I saw my sister’s bone marrow; it looked like any ordinary blood, only in a much bigger container and not as bright red as peripheral blood. The last thing the BMT team leader told me was that “…everything will be fine, it was a good thing that your sister have big bones, and we were able to harvest 1.5 L when you only need 1.2 L…..”. Then they all went out of the unit and only two nurses and a hematology fellow were left inside. I fell asleep.


Then all of a sudden, I felt something fall on my head. It hit so hard I thought my skull cracked! I thought the cardiac monitor fell on my head and I could not move! I tried to shout but no words would come out of my mouth. My hands were too weak to touch my head to feel it, and the nurse and doctor who were there seemed not to care that something fell on my head. The severe crushing pain was followed by a stab like pain in my chest, and then I heard them saying the BP is up! The pain in my chest became a pressure that seemed to suck the air out of my lungs. This time I gathered all my strength to get up as I coughed and coughed grasping for air. I noticed then that room was full of people asking “Can you now breathe? Are you feeling better? Please relax!” Groggy from the sedatives, I did not exactly know what was happening, but through what I was hearing, I gathered that I was rejecting my sister’s perfectly matched bone marrow. They said they never had anything like this before since though my sister is blood type “B” and I was blood type “O” it was not her blood that was being transfused but her bone marrow which was devoid of the blood elements that would cause an immediate rejection reaction. They gave room for the possibility that I was just too anxious for the procedure so they resumed. With each slow drop of the bone marrow, my vital signs became paradoxical. With high BP, I started having bradycardia. The procedure had to be terminated with less than three hundred cc infused of the required 1.2L!


The BMT unit in my observation suddenly just turned gray. From laconic, I became mute and just slept. For aside from being sedated, I did not know how and what to feel. I was awakened the following day by my husband’s shaking saying I was perhaps having a nightmare as he said I was groaning. MY SITUATION WAS INDEED A NIGHTMARE! In my mind I believed, that was it! Perhaps my time had really come. Without my sister’s bone marrow and with my own bone marrow eroded by the strong chemo drugs, I will just be waiting for my time. My husband holding my hand while on my bedside blabber about faith and trust in God while all the thoughts of acceptance of my near death played in my mind. I looked at him and wanted to tell him things but I really became mute that day. Even my tears wouldn’t come out, though I know I had pails and pails to shed. I could see him teary eyed but still faithful that God will continue what He had started me. My husband’s heart firmly believed that God will not bring us as far as admission at the BMT unit just to die there.


Stephen’s faith was just too much. I had to look away lest he would see that mine was been SNAPPED away by the devil already. And I allowed the devil to SNAP it away from me without a good fight. Always my number one prayer warrior, my husband started praying at the top of his voice the moment he felt that I was holding my faith on a very tiny string again. Inside the BMT unit he was praising and thanking the Lord for yesterday’s event. He was at the top of his voice crying to the nurses on duty to come inside to see what was going on. But Stephen just continued praising and thanking God! I did not hear him pray that God will let me survive even without transplant; instead he prayed that God would put back in me the faith I had that I will be healed. It was then that I started crying again, for I remembered, was it not just a few hours prior to the aborted transplant that I was ready to be God’s champion?! Was it not also the day before the transplant that I clearly professed God’s goodness in my life when I made one of my articles? Where did it all go? Just one frustration and I was ready to throw God out of the window!


Forgetting all the other good things that He had done for me, forgetting His love for me, and putting His faithfulness equal with my human faith. I was not angry with God though, I just lost the faith. Clearly in that test of faith my human nature again won! My faith is determined by IMMEDIATE and FAVORABLE results. When it does not happen the way I hope for it to happen, I reduce the Lord to my level. If only the problem was financial,, I could have borrowed or asked from someone money, and considered that act (borrowing and asking) as God’s way of answering my prayer request. If only the problem was something I could do something about, something tangible, I would have done it myself and considered MY OWN actions as God’s way of answering my prayer. If only He made that transplant smooth sailing the way He did it to others, my confidence in Him would not have faltered! I could not trust His promise of more years in my life that time because even my doctors went out of the unit with confused faces.


In retrospect though, it had to be that way. I had to be pushed against the wall where there was nothing anyone can do to make me understand what He really meant when He said that “…..His ways and thoughts are higher than mine….”, “…..that He is faithful to finish the work that He started…”, and that “,,,,,He is the God of the impossible…..”. I have to be awakened from the fact that the faith in Him that I profess and boast about was skin deep and all lip service. My faith was so shallow that with simple presence of the devil, even without the devil taunting me, it faded away as quickly as I said it.


Oh how easy it is for me to say God is good! How easy for me to say that God will provide! And how easy it is for me to say God is merciful He will heal me! But when put to test, I doubted Him and went back to my own old self, seeing the Lord as someone with limitations. Good thing that God’s faithfulness is unlike mine! He did not leave me despite my doubt. He instead He “provided me a way out of that temptation” not to call upon Him anymore. He sent my husband Stephen who I believe is always filled with the Holy Spirit when he prays, as in our nine years of marriage he always prays for the right thing even if it meant inconvenience for us all. He was on his knees not for my life but for a real faith to be seeded again in my heart.


God is faithful to finish every work He started in me. He brought me as far as the BMT unit, though my little faith then did not doubt it, He finished my transplant through the success of the second attempt. The second attempt was “miraculously” smooth as I slept the whole time and had normal vital signs. I was still constantly awakened by chest pain which made me shout “….Jesus my greatest healer please hide me in the shadow of your love and protection……” in my mind. With this simple prayer, immediate relief of my chest pain would come. The second attempt of transplant was finished in three hours time, uneventful in God’s higher way! Ironically the successful transplant happened on an April fool’s day!


On the flip side though, it was a Maundy Thursday, a day before the passion of Christ centuries ago. I no longer see it as a “magically significant day”, rather it was His appointed time for my new life in Him. The complication of my transplant right now is far more dangerous than the transplant itself. My new bone marrow is rejecting and attacking my liver. My liver profile results are a thousand times higher than normal, and I am presently jaundiced. I still fear a lot of things; after all I am still a “doctor” and a human being. The only difference now is that I don’t let the enemy snatch away my faith again just like that! I have come to learn that the secret weapon of knowing Jesus Christ by heart as the best armor to protect my faith.


Among the books that I try to know by heart now, the one that contains the truth of who God really is, is the book that contains the Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth, everyone knows this book! I come to realize that in order for me to have a solid faith in Him, I must know Him first. Knowing Him is the beginning of wisdom!

 

by: Maria Ella Regondola-Cabanlet

May 28 2010

Friday 9:04 pm


I feel like I am in “de- ja- vu”. I had this same experience during my first cycle of chemotherapy, only now, the “roasting” is a lot worst than before. I feel like I am under the desert sun without clothes on. My finger tips are almost numb now because of the pain it has been through for days. I am at “rest” from the chemo drugs today because tomorrow, my one and only loving sister, will do her unselfish act of giving me her “bone marrow”. Emotionally I don’t know how I am. I guess it is pretty much of a “de-ja-vu” also.


I remember the mixed feelings I had back then as memory of my husband making a lot of calls, drafting several appeal letters, going to and from my office as he started to look for the four point two million I needed. Many people indeed responded! His phone never stopped ringing, internet messages flocked with so many promises of help and encouragement. It seemed like everyone was suddenly awakened with enthusiasm to do this and that project to be able to help us financially. These people giving us hope really gave us encouragement. Each time my husband and I talked, his smile became brighter and brighter as he would relate to me how this and that person responded positively to his appeal. I finally gave up wallowing and gave in to the same hope that my disease was not a death sentence but just another sea to cross together as man and wife. A test if love will still be there when attraction and other tangible and physical aspects are removed.


December came, my transplant schedule was given but for some reason it did not push through. My husband gave me several reasons for the delay but assured me that it was not for financial reasons. The delay was horrific! Leukemia cells are one of the fastest growing cancer cells ever known thus my fate was literally just a fate. The pain from a weekly bone marrow aspirate became part of my strictly limited activity. But I did not mind the pain knowing I will be able to see and interact with someone else in the hospital. A pleasure I did not know till then. The bone marrow aspirate has to be done to monitor the leukemic cells. It was eerie and so so sad when the aspirate result came bad again in late December.


It was new years eve, I have to be on chemo drugs, away from home and my three little precious ones. Will this be my last new year? But I have to be a “steel” in all of these. Steel is not the hardest metal on earth! Knowing the truth of the reason why my transplant was being delayed was FINANCIAL brought me in agony of doubt and despair. Where were the people who promised? It was just two months prior when they were all over us! My good husband who was the bare witness of my physical and emotional difficulty saved me from some more by keeping from me the fact that we could not even pay for the down payment yet. But as I have said, the ordeal is for both of us and I will not be protected from reality.


It was in mid January when I learned of the fact. My “marine” Major husband, stripped off with rank, has to line up in different institutions to ask for financial assistance so as to keep the mother of his children alive even for a year or five. It was not flattering. I felt his humiliation and it cut me deeply. The hurt was too much. I started asking myself “am I asking so much from him? Am I being selfish?”. If I die right there and then it would be easier for him and the children. He would not experience the unkind and unnecessary words from different office secretaries or personnel. He would not hear the doubting words of “mistah’s” whom he thought knew how important dignity for him was, that he was doing this to raise money for personal use. It just hurts more than too much to see your respected husband devalued for your sake. But his answer to me was simply “… in sickness and health…” and it was enough for me. Frustration was all he has on the people behind the offices whom he thought could help him but barely extended help. Despite this, he still saw himself favored as several other people line up in the same offices the whole day for their meager 1 thousand pesos, while he gets at least five thousand pesos.


Our faith has been tested. Now it’s time to learn about God’s timing. The Orchestrator of all things would not simply let go of what He started. Another schedule was given and this time no barrier should stop it otherwise transplant would be futile. Everyday for the succeeding days, he meet a lot of unexpected people used by God to guide his way. People in the military, most of them have been through a lot and survived also, the real friends that we had and people we barely know were the ones touched by the Lord to contribute in finding the two million down payment.


The PDI story published in God’s time (February 14, 2010) was one of our gateway also. It was so amazing that people would respond to such an appeal. I did not know how, but I believe it is these people’s own walk with the Lord that made them commit. Who in the world would just give someone a hundred thousand pesos and would not have their names given?! All I can say is that the faith of my husband must not be ignored in this turn of the event. The same faith I am learning as I stay alone in my 17 degree temp room at St. Luke’s hospital. We are still ¼ away from completing our road to four million. And just like any other road, we expect twists and turns and crossroads along the way. Along with each turn comes our emotional response to each of the event. With prayer we hope for the right responses on everything at all times.


“…Thus far the Lord has helped us…..” 1 Samuel 7:12.

 

by: Maria Ella Regondola-Cabanlet


I have tried so many times to write everything that comes into my mind but I could not organize them into something that would make sense. So unlike me rather, as my mind and my finger tips are blessed with coordination, expressing my thoughts and emotions is not a difficult task for me. It kind of scares me as I seem to lose it. I was told by my doctors that this is just one of the many “necessary evils” of all the things that I have been through for the past months. If “lucky” enough I will regain the speed of my neuronal processing shorter than three months, if not I might as well start mental exercises to at least make sure that it will return.


This is my 7th day after discharge, 48th day post transplant. Home indeed, but still away from my well longed husband and kids. The rules are: get out of the room only when necessary, wear triple mask at all times, eat in the room, change and clean everything in the room everyday, never eat uncooked or even just half cooked food, never have visitors, and most of all rest all you can. Where I am now is a miniature St. Luke’s that I don’t have to pay millions. With the help of one house help, I monitor my own vital signs, clean my own chest wounds, measure my own input and output, and compute for my own daily calorie and protein intake and make sure that I take all my medications on time ( I take at least 14 kinds of medications now TID).


At this point is the reason why maybe the Lord made me what I am by profession. I don’t have to pay for a private nurse that will surely add up to our financial burden. I think I am the most unattractive creature anybody can lay their eyes upon right now. Bald to the top of my head skin, it’s like being waxed everyday. It looks to me as if my hair has no chance of growing back again and not even a single hair survived! My skin burnt to black! There is nothing that covers me that is not burnt by the chemo drugs. And because of the immune suppressants (cell cept and prednisone at high doses) that I am taking, my muscles (especially my leg muscles) are wasting! Imagine Mr. Incredible? That is how my body is proportioned right now.


Nothing hurts though, only my pride, and I am very thankful I don’t feel weak. Maybe this is the reason why the Lord genetically endowed me with a body that has resistant fats. As my nutritionist told me, my reserved fats along with antibiotics, protected me from having sepsis again during those times that I was febrile and could not eat anything. The exercise resistant fats that I used to hate so much were there for a reason. My first three days at home was as senseless as my chaotic mind. I did not know what to do with my time. I paced around till I got tired enough to just fall asleep, read without understanding a single line of what I was reading. I tried provoking myself to anger or just irritability by watching news and awaken any emotion at all. I used to get angry and stress myself out when I hear not so good news, but in my first three days home even the results of election had no effect on me. It is hard fact to accept that I think I am actually being apathetic! I felt little excitement on my way home after discharge, but when I arrived here at home, the emotional “blank” returned.


Indeed the forefathers of psychiatry found a great discovery when they said that when someone is subjected long enough to pain and suffering, the result would be that they become “meek”. Even though they have a mind of their own, they lose the emotional energy to fight back. Like trained dogs that would jump and pick up a stick without knowing the logic. Like a domestic animal that would be slaughtered also not knowing the logic of it. I thought I already needed professional help. I have been handling myself emotionally and psychologically since my diagnosis in September last year, and logic is now telling me I am no longer seeing the entire picture. Mind you, I do not meet any criteria of Axis I psychiatric diagnosis but as I have said, maybe I am not seeing it as I should.


A day or two ago, I just decided to pick a book. The first thing I noticed was the famous line “…TO EVERYTHING THERE IS SEASON, A TIME FOR EVERY PURPOSE IN HEAVEN: A TIME TO BE BORN, AND A TIME TO DIE….”. It surprised me that this line was JFK’s favorite words of wisdom, learned from the wisest man who ever walked on this earth, King Solomon himself! The King in his lowest moment (severely depressed if I am to make a diagnosis) in Ecclesiastes, saw vanity in everything despite what he had and what he was capable of. For some reason it made me feel good, for even the wisest king and a great US president had been through dark times. They knew the wisdom that they could not stop bad things from happening and that many things are beyond their control despite their position and power. Only God can truly decide what will happen. Truly sun and rain comes to all and it will come on its appointed time, if it is line with its purpose in heaven!


At that moment of great insight, it came to me that I am not having any psychiatric issues but rather I am in HIBERNATION. I don’t exactly know what happens emotionally to animals that hibernate but what I know is that they have to hibernate to ensure survival from hostile environment for some time. My “apathy”, a very bad thing for a psychiatrist, has to happen to make sure that my soul is empty enough to absorb new and better emotions. How will I be able to be happy again when resentment over a possible lost career, lost physical beauty, lost physical strength and all loses a cancer survivor (more so a transplant patient) could ever think of will loom over me all the time? I am being taught a lot of new things right now. I am in the process of stripping myself of my learned behavior I have been practicing for the past 37 years. I would like to consider myself asleep from my old self, to be cleansed thoroughly.


This hibernation is God’s way of protecting me from my human nature. If allowed to be out in the world where I have been prior to my leukemia, I will be eaten up again by my own need to compete, to be successful, be praised and ultimately be envied. It is my realization now that even those wants hides no logic, only good feelings. Addicting a good feeling that has driven me to the verge of real weariness without realizing it! And I now believe that this contributed heavily to my leukemia. With weariness came the worst feeling of all – “envy” for other people’s good fortune. Then the cycle returns, more achievements should be accomplished.


I believe those times were more tiring than being on a hospital bed for months and months. And God in His infinite wisdom, knows that I will put Him second or third or worst, even forget all about Him again when He lets me get out of this situation easily. I am still isolated because I am not ready to face the world. After all, I would not want my leukemia to amount to nothing! This experience is tragically wonderful I would not want to waste it. In my every solitude, He strengthens every aspect of my being and I am just so thankful for it! Now is my season to master the more important thing in my life, my walk in faith and full trust in Jesus, and if I still have a purpose for heaven here on earth, that time too shall come!!!

 

by: Maria Ella Regondola-Cabanlet

Tuesday at 10:34pm


Successful Leukemia traveller – Maria Ella Cabanlet, who journeyed through the disease the past two years and came out victorious, recently spoke in front of Leukemia patients, patient relatives, EPCALM volunteers and staff, and invited guests for an EPCALM-sponsored event (see related article –EPCALM explores areas of collaboration with NCI) last February 7, 2013 at the 5th Floor conference room of the St. Luke’s Medical Center (SLMC) located in Global City.


Ella spoke about the trials that she underwent during the said journey, the pains, the sorrows, the successes and the blessings along the way.


See her journey as encapsulated in a Youtube video (click on image) below:


My Worst Encounter in Life

(by: Stephen Cabanlet)



Good day. My wife and I have very simple want in our lives, which is to give our children a simple yet happy and fulfilled childhood. We try to do our duty for others the best way we can, she being a doctor specializing in psychiatry working in a government hospital and me as military officer. We had our plans of moving back to our own hometown come June of this year, everything is set and ready even the kids are all excited knowing they will be reunited with their cousins.


In the middle of all these plans and excitement we did not expect that dark clouds are about to cover our lives. My wife, the mother of my three young children, Ella was diagnosed to have Acute Myelogenous Leukemia (AML). It was as unexpected as a typhoon in summer as she never had any signs that she was harboring these killer cells while doing service around the mountains of cordillera with the mental health team from the hospital. It was a shock as she was very athletic, easy going and has a very positive outlook in life.


It was September 19, 2009 when the verdict was given. As clueless as I am, I can see the pain in Ella’s eyes when she and her fellow doctor converse in words only they can understand. Since then Ella had been through a lot! The first pain was her first cycle chemotherapy done in October 2009. The “iron lady”, that was what most of those who knew her personally would brand her, but in those days I witness all her strength zapped away by the drugs that was supposed to kill the cancer cells. She succumbed to sepsis and bleeding, I was told that 80% who had this ends in death. In God’s grace and mercy she came out of it after ten days of being in and out of her wits. She came through, as each day she had improved driven by the fact that her children need her. So many times during her “sepsis” days that I would hear her call to God bargaining that she still yet to enjoy the gifts that He had given to her, which is our children. Finally when she was reunited with our children (she could not take visitors while in the hospital) I can see the joy in their eyes but I could help noticing that at the back of Ella’s mind she was very saddened that she really does not know until when she could hold on. Bald and fragile she tried to make everything as normal as possible when our kids are around. These scenes break my heart. It removes the courage in me that I learned to master through the years in the military. I would rather go to war in Mindanao or anywhere else or better yet go back to my plebe year in the academy than see my wife and children in the situation. I just feel so helpless and invalid!


The torment did not end in that 42 days of hospitalization as she only stayed home for 5 days and was admitted again for the second cycle of chemotherapy this time it was done at National Kidney Transplant Institute in Quezon City. She was admitted last week of November 2009. This time she has her determination back, I know the effect of chemo drugs was still physically painful but she never showed it. She again succumbed to infection but this time it never went to the point of sepsis. She spent Christmas with us as she was “allowed” to be out for three precious days. Our three boys could not part from her; they had so many stories to tell. At one point, perhaps she was off guard, she asked, is this going to be my last Christmas? I just prayed as I do not know how to answer her.


She was re admitted two days prior to New Year Day. Our children spent the New Year ’s Eve “parentless” as I could not bear leaving her alone even as she ask me to. She told me that the kids should have at least one of us on the occasion. She was having her third cycle chemotherapy on New Year’s Day while everyone was out celebrating. It was such an “abnormal” year for my family! The therapy went really smooth this time, as she did not even have fever. She only had six units of platelets transfused to her. She only stayed one week at the hospital post chemotherapy.


At present she is being worked up and readied for Bone Marrow Transplant. A procedure she says she did not know as it was “not yet” during her junior and senior internship in med school. She would relate to me during her low moments that back then they would just wait for their patients with AML to die as chemotherapy does not ensure complete treatment or any treatment at all. With her renewed and closer relationship to our Maker and this Bone Marrow Transplant she became more determined to fight back. I now hear her talk about the future again and happy that she is being her old self most of the time again.


I do not want her to worry as I know she had enough already, that is why I did not want her to know that 4.2 million worth of procedure is way too much for me. I simply tell her that God will touch people’s hearts and everything will be provided at the time appointed. I am a believer of a God who works mightily on everyone. I believe that He would not give me something that I could not handle. I believe that the people He leads me to, are the very people that would help me keep the light and soul of my family alive for several years more. Just like the promise I made to the people I tried to protect when I was in Mindanao, I promised my children that I am going to bring their mom back home with her all grown and beautiful again just like before. I could not do it though without help.

 


January 30, 2010 at 9:05 AM



Comments

ABOUT US >

EPCALM is a Christ-centered, non-stock, non-profit organization called to reach out and help victims of leukemia and their families.

CONTACT 

Landline: (+632) 8727-5012

Cell Hotline: (+63) 919-955-6149 (Smart) / (+63) 905-928-9896 (Globe)

E-mail: info@epcalmfoundation.org

bottom of page