Realizing How Precious Time is During Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma

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Throughout my experience with stage 4 non-Hodgkin lymphoma, I realized that time is precious to me.

Image of a person holding an analog clock.

Englewood realized how precious time is during her experience with cancer.

Precious Time

No awakening… No sleeping,

No morning… No night,

No day on… No day off,

No relief… No escape.

​Help me, Savior.

No freedom… No happiness,

No appetite… No energy,

No résistance… No hair,

No promises… No cure.

​Help me, Jesus.

More tests… More exams,

More biopsies… More shots,

More bleeding… More bruises,

More exhaustion… more tears.

​Help me, Master.

More pills… More pain,

More stress… More decisions,

More setbacks… More isolation,

More sadness… More tears.

​Help me, Lord.

More nausea… More vomiting,

More diaphoresis… More constipation,

More headaches… More throbbing,

More expenses… More tears.

​Help me, Father.

More friends… More hugs,

More love… More trust,

More hope… More faith.

​Praise You, Jehovah.

More seconds… More minutes,

More hours… More days,

More time… More precious time.

​Thank You, God.

In September of 1997, I was given a diagnosis of stage 4 non-Hodgkin lymphoma. I was told it was non-curable, recurrent, and could mutate to a more aggressive type after treatment that is if I did not succumb to infection due to immunosuppression from chemotherapy. I knew that all decisions would be final and that my best shot had to be taken then. All goals and dreams were abandoned in a matter of seconds. Every moment took on a new kind of importance as being the last time to do, to see, to act, and to be. I would never be the same person. What would ever be normal again?

I was placed on a clinical trial and throughout it, I had to work to stay insured and to pay the expenses with one son graduating and another entering college plus a supportive husband. I chose to live against the cancer (not with it), to defeat the Devil, that had invaded my temple, to be a survivor, not a victim.

Surviving does not mean the impact is gone. The battle continues. Time is precious and God is in control of the exact amount.

My poem, “Precious Time,” was written in August 28, 1998, with nearly a year into the fight.

This post was written and submitted by Karen Engledow. The article reflects the views of Engledow and not of CURE®. This is also not supposed to be intended as medical advice.

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