Today's blog is a rather long one, God bless you if you make it to the end! When the doctors told us there was nothing more they could do, I knew I couldn’t give up. That was October 2012. My dad had just endured eight weeks of intense treatment—daily radiation, 8-hour chemo infusions, and two of the strongest drugs in oncology: one nicknamed the Red Devil, the other Bone Crusher. His body was exhausted, and yet, I believed there had to be more we could do to support his healing. We doubled down on a full lifestyle shift—removing what we could, adding in what would help, and trusting God every step of the way.
Over the years, I’ve had hundreds of people ask about my dad’s journey. Whether it’s someone walking through a diagnosis or a caregiver searching for answers, the questions are always heartfelt—and familiar: What did you do? What helped him? How is he still here? I’ve told this story so many times, always wishing I had it all written down. So now I am—starting here. In May 2005, my dad was diagnosed with both non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma as well as non-small cell adenocarcinoma lung cancer.
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