Jennifer Vancil's Story Cont.
And she did see where and what God brought her through, regardless of the circumstances that she faced. Jen went on to finish up the chemo treatments in mid 2008 and was under close observation to ensure that the cancer would not recur a third time.
Jennifer was a lover of the Rocky movies. Probably her favorite was the final movie, Rocky Balboa
because of a quote that she not only embraced, but lived. The quote was: Let me tell you something
you already know. The world ain’t all sunshine and rainbows. It’s a very mean and nasty place and I don’t
care how tough you are it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You,
me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain’t about how hard ya hit. It’s about how hard you can
get hit and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning
is done! Now if you know what you’re worth then go out and get what you’re worth. But ya gotta be willing
to take the hits, and not pointing fingers saying you ain’t where you wanna be because of him, or her, or
anybody! Cowards do that and that ain’t you! You’re better than that!
And that was what she did…she kept moving forward regardless of the circumstance, regardless of
the report, regardless of how she felt she smiled and kept going for it. And so it was when she found
out, just before Christmas of 2008, that the cancer returned for a third time. The plethora of specialist
and oncologist on her case said there was nothing more they could do than just put Jennifer on
chemotherapy to hope to contain the cancer – there was no cure. She wasn’t fazed. We decided to get
a second opinion from MD Anderson in Houston Texas.
While in Houston we had an opportunity to not only meet some of the nations, if not the worlds, leading
medical professionals we were able to meet and sit with Dodie Osteen at a Wednesday night service
at Lakewood Church. Dodie was a hero of Jennifer’s. Jennifer kept Dodie’s book with her at all times
and we often gave it to people that we met who too were plagued with the deplorable disease we call
cancer. When Dodie prayed for Jennifer she looked at her and said, “Sweetie, you are so beautiful and
unless you told me that you were sick, I would have had no idea”
The doctors at MD Anderson were willing to take a very aggressive position with Jennifer and offered
to do surgery to attempt to eradicate the cancer. However, they wanted it to be abundantly clear that
to achieve the margins that they needed to give her the best chance of survival and no recurrence they
would have to cut into her hip thusly changing her quality of life. It would be probable that she would
be bound to a wheel chair and at best there was only a 50/50 chance that it would not recur.
After a time to reflect on the comments of the doctors, a chance to pray and find peace, Jennifer decided
that she would not move forward with such a radical treatment plan. It was so far from home, with such low
odds, she decided she would continue on in her journey of faith and medical advice with her team of doctors at
home.
After returning in the spring of 2009 from Houston Texas until December of 2011 Jennifer was on
chemotherapy every other week. She would go into the Siteman Cancer Center and sit in a pod of
chairs with dozens of other cancer patients. While a cocktail of drugs flowed through the port surgically
implanted in her chest, she would counsel me on ministry, our children, things related to my job
and would continue to serve in her duties and roles for the church. During this entire season of her life
she was not only dealing with the side effects of chemotherapy but also dealing with the negative side
effects of her surgery in 2007 that left her with a permanent ostomy, the loss of sensation in much of
her right leg, an increase in bladder leak, as time went on, requiring her to wear absorbent pads and an
inability to relieve her bladder without having to self catheterize. Never once, that I ever heard, that I
ever saw in her face, complained about her condition(s). She loved God, she loved me, she loved her
children, she loved her family, she loved her friends, and she loved life.
In December of 2011 Jennifer’s oncologist told her that the tumor that had been contained, and
not spreading beyond her pelvic region, was growing in size and that they would need to stop her
chemotherapy regiment. Her oncologist then recommended that we should consider, and begin looking
for medical trials. Her oncologist went on to explain that, aside from our faith, this was our only hope. And yet again, with no emotion,
no tears, no breakdown, Jennifer simply said, “ok, where do we start”.
We were sent to Sarah Cannon Research Institute in Nashville Tennessee. It is there that we met a
wonderful oncologist full of hope and plans to help Jennifer. And so it began; a battery of tests, scans,
consultations and plans that would require us to be in Nashville Tennessee every week for months. And
we did just that, and loved every minute of it. While there were scheduling challenges, attempting to
keep up with work, ministry and most importantly, what should we do with our children during this
time, it gave me so much time with Jennifer. We grew to love our “retreat” to Nashville. Jennifer’s war
waged on yet she battled with such dignity, with incredible grace, with outstanding beauty.
By the time Jennifer was about half way through her trial I’ll never forget a time that I dropped her off
at the front door to the Research Institute. Jennifer’s leg had become completely numb and paralyzed.
She literally had to drag it behind her and hobbled significantly when she walked – but she insisted on
walking. No wheel chair for her. As I dropped her off at the front door to the building I would ask her “Babe,
is there anything that I can do to help you?” she simply looked at me with her smile and would say, “No,
I’m fine”. And there she would go. Laboring, step after step, dragging her foot behind her, with very
little balance, to get to the first of her many appointments of the day – insistent that she could, and she
would do it on her own, with no preferential treatment.
In the spring of 2012 Jennifer wrapped up her first trial at Sarah Cannon Research Institute. She
underwent a battery of tests to see how successful the trial drug had been. After review the oncologist
revealed that not only had the drug been unsuccessful but the tumor in Jennifer’s pelvic region and the
spot on her lung and liver had tripled in size. As the oncologist delivered the news, and I looked out the
window of the room with tears in my eyes, Jennifer, yet again, simply said “ok, what do we do next?”
While there were additional trials that were available, and the oncologist remained optimistic and
hopeful, we would never make it to Nashville again. In May, Jennifer was at home alone while I was at church and this
time her leg got the best of her. While she was up to make herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich she fell and broke her hip. While in the hospital for evaluation her
colorectal specialist revealed that she probably only had 3-6 months to live. He went on to suggest that Jennifer strongly consider starting hospice. Again, Jennifer was unfazed and
was determined to have hip surgery and get back to Nashville to start another trial. There was no hospice in her future. To Jennifer, hospice was an acknowledgement that she had given up, that she wasn’t fighting anymore and she was ready for a fight!
She went on to have hip surgery and spent the next two weeks in the hospital. Although she was released to go home,
due to a variety of complications post surgery Jennifer struggled to regain her strength. She encountered
a variety of infections that she was challenged to overcome and nausea like she nor I have ever
experienced thusly impacting her nutritional level.
Whether you go all the way back to 2005 when Jennifer was first diagnosed to her last days in 2012
Jennifer’s strength, her center, her peace was found in Christ alone. One may think why would one
continue to believe, continue to have faith in a God who appears to have done nothing for you? I think
it can be summed up in one of Jen’s favorite scriptures found in Matthew 7:25, And the rain fell and
the floods came and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because
it had been founded on the rock.
You see, Jennifer knew that regardless of the storm that may rage, that the flood waters of life may rise and that the winds may blow like a hurricane that her foundation was deeply embedded in her Rock, Jesus Christ. She knew that there is the power of death and life in your tongue. She knew that the
only way to win, the only way to triumph was to believe. She was convinced that if you knew and
understood everything about God it wouldn’t be faith. She filled her mind daily with messages of
healing by Jentzen Franklin, a powerful message by Willie George, Turning the Tables on the Devil,
worship music and reading Healed of Cancer, by Dodie Osteen and quoted, out loud, countless healing
scriptures in a book by Charles Capps.
On July 15, 2012, around 9am I could tell that something wasn’t the same. Jennifer had just an hour before told me that she loved me and I told her, looking into her beautiful blue eyes, that I loved her. Then she began to stare off, was sick and not able to take care of herself and was no longer communicating. By 9:30am I contacted the nurse on call because I decided it was in Jennifer’s best interest to be placed on hospice, despite her desire to fight on. At 10:25am my wife, my kids mom, my brother-in-laws sister, my father-in-laws
daughter, my nieces and nephews aunt, my very best friend didn’t go on hospice, she decided to win her fight by releasing herself to be with God… and she lives on in all of us who
heard her precious words and her loud voice in the quietness of her strength and life’s lesson to love
God and to love one another as she loved.
I believe, as I attempt to close out this piece demonstrating a snapshot of Jen’s life, these words that I
found in her blog, will reveal her heart.
