Barbara Beardsley

One of these days, I’m going to write this story up myself and call it, “Dead Woman Walking – A Love Story.” At one point with this cancer, I’d been told to make preparations to die, but I’m alive today because of the love of God and the love of my entire congregation. And this whole journey with cancer has helped me reach the point where I really believe God loves me – not just know that in my head but believe that in my heart -- and know that all His promises are “yea and amen” in Christ for me.

Back in February 2005, I was lying in bed, propped up on my back, recovering from knee surgery. I put my hands on my abdomen and felt a large bump there. I thought I may need to get that checked out when I was done with the knee.

Two months later, I did go to have it checked out, as it was growing like crazy. My OB/GYN decided to do surgery, and called in a general surgeon to help her. When she came out of surgery, she told my husband Gaylen and our pastor that she’d gotten all the growth, and they’d sent it off for pathology tests. But the general surgeon with her seemed shocked by what she was saying, and then he added something about that the growth was really big and would probably come back.

When the test results came back that this growth was cancer, I went to see an oncologist for follow-up and told her my OB/GYN had said she’d gotten it all out. But the oncologist negated that, said the other doctor hadn’t gotten it all and that there were no clear margins indicated on the report. She told me I needed chemo and needed it now, but I wasn’t prepared to consider that.

The tumor began growing rapidly again. I decided to see a naturopath in Oregon, but when he examined me, he told he couldn’t help me and that I needed surgery now.

When I finally got an appointment with a surgeon who’d been highly recommended, he said I needed chemo to shrink the cancer because, in his opinion, it would be stuck to everything inside, and it would be next to impossible for him to get it off my organs unless it was reduced.

Even though my research told me sarcomas didn’t respond well to chemo or radiation, I went ahead and agreed to the chemo. I was sure this surgeon knew what he was doing and that he was the person God was going to use to heal me. I was hospitalized for the treatment, and it was a good thing, because it turns out I was allergic to this particular chemo, and it almost killed me. The massive amounts of water they had to give me to keep my kidneys from failing from the chemo caused my heart to almost stop.

I was so bad, my husband called the church to ask for immediate prayer. It was Sunday morning. My pastor had arranged for a visiting speaker that day, so, when he finished talking to my husband, he left the visitor in charge of the church and came to us at the hospital. The visiting speaker used the entire service time to lead the congregation in fervent, intercessory prayer for me. I know God answered, because I made a turn for the better that day, even though it took me two more weeks before I was out of danger and able to come home.

I then tried two other chemo mixtures. Nothing worked. And the cancer kept on growing. At another follow-up appointment, the oncologist who was working with the surgeon just told me he was sorry this wasn’t working. They couldn’t operate, because it would mean destroying or taking out so many organs I would die in surgery, and since the chemo wasn’t helping, they’d done all they could do. I sat there stunned. I couldn’t get my wits about me or understand what they were actually saying, which was that I should go home and just die.

Over the next several months, I was perplexed as to why all the prayer didn’t seem to be working ... at least, not the way I had envisioned it working. After all, the cancer was still there. My pastor had prayed, many in the congregation had fasted and prayed for me. And God had even reminded me of a word He’d given me earlier, “My truth is higher than man’s truth.”

Then a friend of mine, who was furious because he’d already lost seven friends to cancer, decided he’d had enough. He wasn’t going to lose one more person to cancer. So he went to the Internet to do some research. He found Cancer Treatment Centers of America (CTCA) and called them. He was so impressed that he called us and begged us to call CTCA. We didn’t want to. We’d seen the CTCA ads on television but didn’t believe them … thought they were just trying to sell us something like everyone else. My friend told us if we wouldn’t call for ourselves, to call for him. So, for the sake of the friendship, I did.

In June 2006, not long after the initial phone call, I was at CTCA in Tulsa, sitting in the office of Dr. Greeff, the surgical oncologist, petrified that he, too, would say the tumor was too big, and there was no hope. But, he didn’t. He said, “I think I can get that thing out of there.” A friend who was with me shouted, “Praise the Lord.” To which, Dr. Greeff responded, “You know, I work for Him; these hands are His.”

When I awoke from surgery, Dr. Greeff told me, “We got it all, and it wasn’t stuck to anything.” My recovery was rapid.

It’s been amazing. God answered our prayers in amazing ways. Looking back, I see that. I see that His answers were much better than the ones I was looking for. He provided caring people who prayed faithfully for us, provided for our financial and physical needs, wouldn’t give up on me living. He provided for us in so many ways, I can’t cover all of it in this testimonial. He provided a surgeon who wasn’t afraid of the cancer he saw … a surgeon with the vision, skill and knowledge to operate without hurting my organs.

God provided CTCA, which to me is a miracle place. I tell everyone to get down to CTCA and experience it on their own, to explore this opportunity for amazing cancer care. From the moment you walk in the lobby, people are caring for you, loving you, praying for you. Based on my experience, I really think I’m CTCA’s greatest fan.

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