survivorship Archives - Marissa Henley

The Words No One Said to My Son that Night (and Why I’m Grateful)

October 19, 2017 by Marissa 3 Comments

The lights dimmed as I gripped my program and shifted in my seat with anticipation. After driving my son to what felt like 101 rehearsals, I was ready to watch him perform in his school’s junior high musical.

The spotlights followed the young teenagers around the stage, songs filled the air, and my son made the audience roar with laughter. I felt the familiar joy all moms feel as we watch our children do well. I felt relief that he didn’t forget his lines or trip over his own rapidly-growing feet.

I also felt a weight of gratitude that I suspect didn’t cross the other moms’ minds that evening. I was thankful that my son had a great time performing, for friends and relatives who joined us in the audience, and for a school that gives my child these opportunities. But there was one thing I was grateful for above all of these.

I was grateful that no one would say to my son that night, “Your mom sure would’ve loved this. She’d be so proud of you.”

Seven years ago, as I read the dismal survival rates for angiosarcoma, as I traveled to MD Anderson Cancer Center to receive months of treatment and participate in a clinical trial, as I walked through the early months and years of survivorship . . . I thought ahead to these moments. I saw my children, a few inches taller and a few years more mature, playing in piano competitions, dancing in ballet recitals, competing in spelling bees, and walking to the stage during school awards assemblies.

No matter how much I squinted and searched, I couldn’t see whether or not I was sitting in the crowd. I feared those normally-happy occasions would be marred by my absence. I imagined the sad half-smiles and the words others would say to console my children: “Your mom would be so proud.”

And by God’s grace, here I am. Not a week goes by that I don’t marvel at my presence here in 2017. I know other children are missing their moms, and it breaks my heart. I don’t take my present or future health for granted.

But as the house lights came up and I made my way to the lobby after the show, it was a joy to hug my son and say, “Wow, I really loved that! I sure am proud of you.”

Your Imperishable Inheritance is Waiting {No Matter What Monday

May 22, 2017 by Marissa Leave a Comment

My hairstylist and I chatted as I sat in her chair, discussing my next appointment and whether it was time to refresh my salon-induced highlights. That’s when she first mentioned the “fair hairs” that were starting to show near my scalp. It took me a minute to realize what she meant. Those aren’t fair hairs, they’re gray—and they’re popping up everywhere.

I’m forty years old, which is exciting for a cancer survivor like me. But there’s no denying the unstoppable force of aging. I can cover the evidence with anti-aging face cream, hair dye, and strategic wardrobe choices, but the truth is that this body is fading.

As my body deteriorates, there’s one thing I can count on: God’s given me an inheritance in Christ that will never diminish.

According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you. (1 Peter 1:3b-4)

We saw last week in verse 3 that by faith, we’ve been given a living hope: Jesus Christ, who is risen from the dead. In addition, verse 4 tells us that we’ve been given an inheritance in heaven.

Your inheritance is imperishable. It’s not like the rotting bag of lettuce in your refrigerator produce drawer that you never got around to eating.

Your inheritance is undefiled. It’s perfect and pure, and no one can taint it.

Your inheritance is unfading. It can’t be diminished in any way.

Your inheritance is kept in heaven for you—because of Christ, your living hope, you can look forward to a glorious future!

No matter what you face this week, you have an imperishable inheritance waiting for you.

Supporting a Friend With Cancer {A Series of Guest Posts}

September 1, 2016 by Marissa Leave a Comment

Do you have a go-to website for local information? If you live in my neck of the woods, you should know about www.nwamotherlode.com. It’s a fabulous resource for busy moms! Over the past few months, the sweet ladies at NWA Motherlode have allowed me to share articles with their readers about how to support a friend with cancer. Here are excerpts of the four posts and links to read more . . . go check them out!

Three Easy Ways to Support Your Friend Diagnosed With Cancer

Has this happened to you? Your phone buzzes, and you look down to see a call from a friend who’s expecting biopsy results.

The minute you hear her voice, you know: it’s cancer.

As you process your shock, sadness and fear, you wonder how you should walk this road with your friend. How will you support her as she endures treatment and survivorship? How will you avoid doing or saying the wrong thing? What does she need most?

I’ve gotten that phone call from a friend. I’ve also been the tearful voice on the other end of the line. In October 2010, I was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer called angiosarcoma.

I endured several months of chemotherapy, radiation and surgery, most of which took place at MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston. My besties kept my household running, meals showed up three times a week, and the prayers of thousands encouraged and sustained me.

I wish every cancer-fighter could feel as loved and supported as I was. But too often, friends lack confidence and hesitate to reach out with supportive words and actions. If you haven’t already had a friend face cancer, it’s likely you will.

When that phone call comes, here are three simple ways to love your friend through cancer . . . [Click here to read more]

Five Practical Ways to Serve a Friend With Cancer

In a previous post, we discussed three ways to support a friend with cancer. Your friend needs your constant encouragement throughout her cancer journey. She also needs your practical acts of service.

Being diagnosed with cancer is like landing an unexpected full-time job. The work seems unending, and the pay stinks! Your friend probably didn’t have much free time before her diagnosis. Now she’s going to spend half her time in doctors’ waiting rooms and the other half sleeping off the treatment she receives there.

In other words, she needs your help.

Here are some ideas to consider as you serve your friend through her cancer treatment . . .[Click here to read more]

Beyond the Casserole: How to Take a Meal to a Sick Friend like a Rock Star

In previous posts in this series, we’ve looked at ways to provide emotional support and practical service for a friend with cancer. Close, inner-circle friends will care for most emotional and logistical needs, but those in the outer circles also wonder how they can help.

Even if you aren’t besties with your friend who has cancer, you still have a role to play in her support network.

You have three responsibilities:

1. Pray.

2. Communicate support.

3. Bring food.

If you’ve been an adult for awhile, you’ve probably taken a meal to a new mom. But the needs of women with cancer are different. You’re not dropping in on a smiling (but exhausted) woman cradling a newborn—in fact, you may not see your friend with cancer at all when you deliver a meal. Your friend’s family may be receiving meals for several months, not just a few weeks. She may have strict dietary restrictions or preferences that need to be considered. When you take dinner, you have an opportunity to love your friend well and show your concern.

Here are some ideas for those who want to take a meal like a rock star . . . [Click here to read more]

Why Your Cancer-Surviving Friend Still Needs You (And How You Can Help)

I’ve lived through the scene several times: I sit across from a cancer survivor who recently finished treatment. We wrap our hands around our lattes and lean in close so the guy in the next booth won’t hear our discussion of post-mastectomy life.

And then she says, “Everyone around me thinks I’m better. They’ve all moved on. But I’m not okay. I need my friends to understand I’m still struggling.”

If you’re friends with a cancer survivor, she still needs you. Here are some thoughts to keep in mind as you support her through her survivorship . . . [Click here to read more]

I Never Could Have Survived Cancer Without This One Thing

October 25, 2015 by Marissa 1 Comment

Five years ago today, I first heard the words: “It’s cancer.” I was standing alone in my bedroom, but I wasn’t alone for long.

Within hours, a few family members and friends came over and joined me in my shock and grief. The next day – my 34th birthday – a larger group of friends gathered for a surprise birthday party full of prayers and tears. And over the coming months, a multitude of supporters came together with love, prayers and service that sustained us. The Lord used these people to demonstrate His daily care for us. I’m positive that I never could have survived cancer without this community.

In fact, I didn’t survive cancer. We survived cancer.

One of the most impactful stories of support during my illness occurred the week after my diagnosis. My husband tried to persuade me to seek a second opinion at MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston, but the logistical challenges overwhelmed me. I told him, “Maybe if we had a private jet, we could make that work. But I just can’t imagine how I could go to a doctor in another state when I can barely make it to a hair appointment across town.”

Within two hours of that statement, a family friend offered the use of their private plane for our initial appointments at MD Anderson.

That moment is not only an example of the generosity of our community. It was also the moment that I realized God was going to meet each and every one of our needs, just as He had promised. He used an army of friends, family, acquaintances, and even strangers to provide tangible, emotional, and spiritual support as we battled for my health and for my life.

Most of you don’t have a private plane that you could loan me. But you gave what you could – a meal, a prayer, a card in the mail, a ride for my kids – and God weaved your thread of support along with thousands of others into a beautiful tapestry that provided for all our needs. I know it’s cliche, but it’s so true: we couldn’t have done it without you.

At the risk of leaving someone out, I want to describe all that was done for us during those months. As I celebrate five years of surviving angiosarcoma, I can’t think of a better way to mark this day than to acknowledge all of you who loved us through my illness.

I hope you’re comfortable, because if this were the Oscars, they’d never get me off the stage. We were well-loved, as you’re about to see. And I hope it will inspire you to love someone who is hurting in a way you might not have thought of before.

Our family and friends provided endless support. My husband, parents and in-laws made constant sacrifices to care for me and the kids. Lynette kept my kids often, drove them to school and piano lessons, and took care of countless details I was only vaguely aware of. Becky drove my kids to school and spent hours on the phone with me when I was lonely in Houston. The two of them also did my grocery shopping. Rachel organized a “Scripture shower,” asking others to send me notecards with Scripture and other encouragement. Staci, Anna, Marilyn and other friends called and texted me often to encourage me.

Allyson coordinated several months of meals and decorated our home for Christmas. Jenny cleaned our house regularly. Callie faithfully showed up every Tuesday morning to take Will to preschool. Alison made gingerbread houses with my kids at Christmas. Ginny and Alyse were our go-to babysitters, and an anonymous friend paid Ginny whenever she was at our house. (I know who you are, Anonymous Friend!)

Then I started spending two out of every three weeks in Houston. Penny left a stable job with benefits to take a leap of faith as our nanny. She loved our children well during a painful time for our family. During my first stay in Houston, Sara picked me up at the airport and helped me find housing. On my second stay, I met Greg and Blair, and I’ll never forget the day Blair asked if I would stay with them from then on. We both cried a little as I agreed – I was already starting to think of her as my “Houston Mom.” She treated me like a daughter, housed me and my friends, fed me, listened to me, and even picked me up from the airport in the middle of the night when my flight was delayed.

Jennifer and Catherine – who were each a friend of a friend – took the time to befriend a cancer patient and made me feel like I had friends in Houston. Becca left infant twins at home and drove hours to spend time with me in Houston. Friends flew in when I needed assistance during chemo – Marilyn, Amanda, Jenny, Melissa, Andrea and Tara each spent a week away from their jobs and families to care for me at my worst.

Our church family and my parents’ church family rallied around us with enormous amounts of food. Friends brought us dinner three nights a week for about seven months. Some friends even asked for a copy of my kids’ favorite recipes and prepared a family favorite. A group of Noel’s colleagues had pizza delivered to our home every Tuesday – our kids loved that! Our Providence Academy family provided freezer meals immediately following my diagnosis.

We received donations of cash and airline miles. Friends sent me treasured, thoughtful gifts. Several people made hats, including a pink knitted cap I wore every night. Nicole and Sarah fixed Sarah Kate’s hair on Sunday mornings when my husband dropped her off at Sunday school with a brush and bow in hand. Carol ironed our clothes. Friends visited me at chemo and during blood transfusions. My memory is a little fuzzy, but I remember visits from my mom, sister, mother-in-law, Crystal, Lynette, Evelyn, Laureen, Jamie, Eva and Jan. The “Henley’s Homies” participated in the Race for the Cure in my honor. The Mothers of Providence spent time on their knees praying for me.

My medical team was superb. Dr. Pope and Dr. Emily Hinton made a quick diagnosis that probably saved my life. Dr. Ravi and his staff at MD Anderson gave us hope of a medical cure. Dr. Vadhan and her attentive research nurses cared for me during the clinical trial. Dr. Rosenfeld, his fabulous nurse, Aimee, and the nursing staffs at Highlands Oncology and the infusion center all cared for me back home in Fayetteville. Dr. Hunt successfully removed the tumor after a team of compassionate radiation techs zapped the life out of it. Years later, Dr. Atwood put me back together again with reconstructive surgery.

In the years following treatment, friends continued to provide support. The Cancer Posse is an amazing source of encouragement and friendship. Mary Grace showed up just when I needed her. Carrie gives wise, compassionate counsel as I process the impact of cancer survivorship.

I wish I could list the names of everyone who brought us food, wrote a guestbook message online, commented on Facebook, emailed, texted, called or sent a card. I’ll never even know all those who prayed for me and put my name on church prayer lists.

Each and every one of you are a significant and meaningful part of my story. Together we are five-year survivors!