Chapter 8: Greg

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Chapter 8: Greg ! !

This is me: Gregory Collins Jr.-- husband, father, son, and musician dedicated to sharing my faith in God with others. It’s crazy how quickly life can change. At 27 years old, I am battling cancer and fighting for my life. Before my diagnosis, I thought I was living a full life at age 25. I worked 3 jobs to support my wife and children, served in the church, and devoted all other time to my music ministry. On stage I was GMeriq and at home I was Daddy. Life for me was pretty


normal. My wife and I are high school sweethearts who, at the time, had been married for 3 years. With 3-year-old Jae’Ci, 1year-old Jaden, and my wife’s 13-year oldsister Abbie in the house, there were very few dull moments. Life was good. The beach was our happy place, and our children loved going every year. Thinking back, I wish I could freeze those happy moments and hold them close to my heart forever. !

I had just started a new job October 2011 and had celebrated my son Jaden’s first


birthday when I started losing weight rapidly. I dropped 20 pounds in two weeks, but didn’t think anything of it. I didn’t concentrate much on the fact that my weight loss didn’t make sense, even though my diet and activity level hadn’t changed. I appreciated the weight loss and received a lot of compliments on my new appearance. Life continued without hesitation. !

I will never forget December 27, 2011, because it marked my first unexpected trip to the hospital. I was on my lunch break and


could barely eat because of an excruciating headache. This was the worst headache I had ever experienced, and I was consumed with pain. All I could do was put my head down and cry. A coworker came by and asked if I was okay. I told her that I needed to go to the hospital, got into my car, and drove myself there. I checked myself into the ER where my wife worked as a nurse. After hearing I was admitted, Â she immediately grew concerned. Â The doctor performed a CT scan of my head, and because the headache was so severe, also ran basic blood work.


The CT scan explained away the headache as a severe sinus infection. Praise God. I was prescribed pretty potent antibiotics and Doc said I would be good to go. That was until the blood work came back and the mystery began. I was anemic and my liver enzymes were elevated. Huh? I had no idea what that meant and how it related to a sinus infection. The Doc didn’t have any answers and the mystery grew with intensity. I didn’t have a history of anemia and was not a drinker, so the diagnosis could not be explained based on my lifestyle. I brought up


my recent weight loss and now the doctor was concerned. I went from 250lbs to 212lbs in two months and I felt silly for not paying closer attention to my weight. Doc performed a second CT scan, this time of my abdomen, to check for internal bleeding. He came back with the results and said “Well, I wish I could shine more light on the situation, but I am actually more confused now.” He went on to explain that my spleen was enlarged, but no other obvious abnormalities were present that could explain the anemia. He recommended I go


see an Ear Nose and Throat (ENT) doctor, a gastroenterologist and a hematologist to dig a little deeper into the anemia mystery. I left that day concerned, with my antibiotics in hand, unaware that a health investigation that would end up changing my life forever had just begun. !

Wifey took charge and made what seemed like a million doctors appointments for me the very next week. This was my first experience seeing specialists and the whole process was uncomfortable. Â First on the list


was the ENT doctor, who informed us the sinus infection was still present and had only slightly improved. I was prescribed additional antibiotics and sent on my way. The gastroenterologist was next on the list. Both an endoscopy and colonoscopy were performed to make sure no internal bleeding was present.  The biopsy result came back inconclusive with no evidence of bleeding. The hematologist was up next. This doctor ordered a massive amount of blood work to check a number of things that I didn’t even understand. Still, there was no luck figuring


out what was wrong. My first of many bone marrow biopsies was then performed. The procedure was painful and the whole experience was horrible. Still, no evidence of disease was uncovered. My iron absorption levels were off but that was brushed off as not a big deal. All I knew was I was anemic for some unknown reason and my B-12 was low. Wifey started giving me weekly injections of B-12 as a supplement. At this point I was more confused than ever and my wife was making herself sick with worry. An emergency visit to the hospital followed by a


long list of doctors’ appointments and procedures all resulted in me feeling overwhelmed and no closer to figuring out what was wrong. !

My weight was still dropping rapidly, and fatigue and weak spells began to set in. Work had always been a big part of my life and I found myself not being able to move around for long periods of time. Â I developed an itchy skin rash that spread all over my legs and torso that landed me with two dermatologist visits. I was diagnosed with


Ichythiosis. It had been 4 months since my first trip to the emergency room and I was receiving weekly blood workups. I still had no luck finding an answer. One night I was so weak that Wifey had to help me out of the bed. Something was seriously wrong and I was admitted to the hospital. I received a blood transfusion and was released that same night. I told the transfusion should help with my weakness. Well, it didn’t, and the very next week I was back down again. Doc scheduled me for another CT scan of my abdomen in 6


months. Wifey was not happy and she quickly scheduled me for a second opinion. We both knew something was wrong and were not comfortable waiting another 6 months for answers. !

Now 6 months after my mystery health issue was uncovered, I found myself in yet another doctors office. “What am I doing here?,” I kept thinking. I was numb to it all at this point; just going through the motions as I was told. More blood work was done, and this time I received a full body CT scan. The


results took 3 days to come in and Wifey shared the news with me. I had multiple enlarged lymph nodes in my chest and abdomen. While she could not confirm a diagnosis, Doc told my wife of the possibility of cancer and said she was setting up an appointment for a biopsy. She was hysterical and I was crushed from the news. My world was instantly turning upside down and I was just along for the ride. Why didn’t I know this sooner? Why weren’t these tests done sooner? I was hopeless and scared. What now? I never imagined cancer would be the


answer to the mystery. Really? What about the kids, my wife, my family? Before even receiving a diagnosis, all I could do was think of death. My wife and family were encouraging, but it was hard to shake the doubt and fear that remained. No one knew, no one understood, no one could relate, I felt alone. Why me? Why now? Why this?. I prayed for peace and comfort, but felt incapable of receiving those blessings. I was in a dark place. Strangely, I found comfort in fear. My guard was up and I couldn’t relax because at any moment I felt


like I would hear something else that would make things even worse. Anxiety began to set in, and it sucked. It all just sucked. !

The next few weeks were a blur. The biopsy results came back and I was diagnosed with stage 3 Hodgkins Lymphoma. Without much time to process the news, I had to prepare for chemotherapy. Another bone marrow biopsy and port placement was scheduled. I was numb.  I was told no radiation was needed. I remember someone saying, “Well,


if you’re gonna have cancer you picked a good one to have.� Nothing like a little healthcare humor. They were trying to be encouraging, saying that my prognosis was good, and curable even. !

There was a little gap in time between biopsy and diagnosis that my family and I were able to go on vacation as planned to Myrtle Beach. I remember standing next to my wife on the roof top pool as the kids were playing and just looking at the beach and sky. In that moment I felt a sense of


clarity, and something just came over me. At that moment, I knew all was going to be well. For just that second, life was almost normal again. Still scared to death of what was about to come, we enjoyed our vacation as much as possible and came home to continue the journey. !

At the end of July 2012, I started a chemo regimen called ABVD. I was expected to feel weak, and lose all my hair. The treatment was scheduled to last 6-8 months depending on my body’s response to


therapy. Every Wednesday Wifey and I spent 6 hours in the chemotherapy center. The nurses were very nice and, aside from the yucky chemo feeling, everything was going fairly smoothly. Chemo days were long days. I really appreciated the moments together with my wife that chemo allowed. I couldn’t have made it through treatment without her love and support. We were true partners in this journey. I was met with the typical chemo side eects of nausea and weakness. Not wanting my hair to fall out, I shaved my head. In a loving show of support, my best


friends, Â Dad, and my Father-in-Law all shaved their heads. Treatment left me sleepy, and I stayed in bed a lot, not having energy for much of anything. Â As soon as I would start to get a little sense of normal, it was time for another cycle of chemo. My mid-way PET scan showed good response, and Doc said I would only need 6 months of therapy, not 8. Finally we had some good news. I pushed through the last few months of treatment with newfound hope. I completed my last cycle of chemo in the week before Christmas. Thank God! With all


the treatment behind me, it was time to pray that it all worked and remain hopeful that one day life would again be normal. !

Finally, the day came for my post-chemo PET scan. I remember leaving the house thinking, “OK, this is it.” Waiting for those results seemed to take a lifetime and will go down in history as the longest week of my life. I was beyond emotional and immediately began to cry when my results came in: No evidence of disease. I read it over and over again, “No evidence of


disease.” Yes! I did it! I had officially beat cancer. Cancer and treatment had taken up so much of my time and energy that I was at a loss about what to do next. I looked over to my wife, asking her, “What now?” She simply replied, “We Live!” That is exactly what we did. Christmas that year was appreciated in a whole new way. My birthday quickly followed the holiday and I was grateful to celebrate life. !

I began to work on my music heavily, putting together a project called "The


Treatment" based on my experience with being diagnosed and receiving treatment. Months went by. I went back to work and started exercising and playing basketball regularly. I was feeling almost back to normal. I had to go every few months for follow-up scans, and as that became less frequent, I began thinking of the future, putting all things cancer behind me. !

I wasn’t due for another PET scan until early the next year, but sometime in November, my wife and I began noticing


small subtle changes in my skin and energy level that were concerning. My wife called the doctor and expressed her concerns, and asked if the scan could just be moved up. It was not as easy as it sounds. There was a lot of back and forth, but finally they were able to schedule the appointment in December. So, here we are again, I thought. Back to the hurry, worry and wait game with the doctors. My wife seemed so concerned, and that scared me. I think deep down she knew something was wrong, but I know she was praying for the best. Long story short- there


was a series of snow and ice storms (yes in Georgia, and trust me, the whole state shut down) that kept pushing my appointment back. !

The PET scan was finally done in January after what seemed like an eternity of waiting. The next appointment was almost as devastating as the first. Surely enough there were enlarged lymph nodes and the possibility again for cancer, which meant yet another biopsy. We had been down this road before, and everyone kept saying it would be


easier this time because I would know what to expect, but we found the opposite to be true. I had developed a deeper hate for the drugs and procedures now, which made me fear them even more this time. The biopsy was completed and confirmed recurrent Hodgkins Lymphoma. ‘Crushed’ was the word I used to describe my feelings after my initial diagnosis, but I am not sure if there is even a word in the English language that can come close to describing how I felt the second time around. ‘Devastated’ is putting


it lightly; ‘deranged’ isn’t even close, I was defeated. !

Being told I had cancer again wasn't in my plans. I was thinking of the future, not cancer. And all too familiar came the feelings of anxiety, fear and doubt that had before been lifted. I remember thinking to myself, “Here we go- AGAIN.” I wasn't sure how to prepare for this, because this was going to be totally different than what I had been through the first time. !


I began researching all my options in an attempt to mentally prepare myself. Dr. Flowers told me his plan and, I was so overwhelmed, to say the least. He told me I would need ‘salvage chemotherapy’ for a few cycles, then stem cell harvest, then high dose chemotherapy followed by stem cell transplantation and recovery. Wow. After all I had already been through, now this. Then I learned that while receiving this salvage chemotherapy I was going to have to be admitted into the hospital. What?!, Why?. What about the kids? I wasn't thinking I


would be admitted in the hospital for a few days. How do I really explain to my now five and three year olds that Daddy is sick and has to go away for a couple of days? To date, that was probably the hardest part. !

The plan was to start with three sets of chemotherapy known as I.C.E. to put me in remission and then proceed as tolerated with further treatment ultimately leading to a stem cell transplant. I was admitted to Emory hospital for my first cycle of chemo, which would require my wife and I to stay in


the hospital for about four days every other week. Our first admission was pretty rough because I was so scared. Chemo and all the yucky feelings that come along with it were bad enough, but I was missing my kids like crazy. Luckily we had either FaceTime or Skype to talk with them and let them see that daddy was okay. It got extremely hard just being there. The heavy build-up of sadness and anxiety was always something that stayed with me. It also didn’t help that the room we first had was view of a brick wall. I was already feeling trapped in the


entire situation; now it seemed as if I were really trapped in this room. I hated everything about what was going on. It became hard to even try to be happy. Even communication between my family and I became a struggle. I just wanted to shut down and get it over. I really hated the food. I hated the smell of the soap. It’s crazy how simple things trigger such grandiose emotions. !

I started to pray, and read my Bible and seek God’s face. I wasn’t necessarily looking


for answers to why this all was happening, but I knew I needed something. I would pray, “Lord, just give me what I need.� As the admissions went on it seemed to get a little easier. Although, during my second admission, I had what I think was a panic attack about it all and I literally slept the rest of the time. Luckily after my last cycle I was able to leave early and go to Tennessee to see Abbie at her color guard competition. I was discharged at 11 o'clock at night and I was just so ready to go. My wife packed up everything and we hit the road for a 2-hour


drive. Abbie didn't know we were coming, and the look on her face the next day at the competition when she saw me in my mask was priceless. The things we do for our kids. We left immediately after her performance and headed home to see the babies. !

Arriving home was strange; it just didn’t feel the same. Don't get me wrong- I was so ready to be home, but the anxiety followed me to the one place I thought I could get away from it. Before I knew it, I was pacing back and forth around the house like I had


something to do or somewhere to go and I was going to be late. My wife kept telling me just to calm down and enjoy being home, but it was so hard because once anxiety takes over it's like you're in panic mode… feels like you're suffocating. I was constantly reminded of a verse in Philippians that says, ” Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” As I begin to


pray and trust God, I started to feel so much better. It took quite some time, but praise God it was getting better. Not to mention a three-year-old and a five-year-old keeping me laughing, which helped a whole lot, too. Your own children are sometimes the best medicine. !

Okay, so the ‘salvage chemotherapy’ was done, and the mid-way PET scan showed i was in remission. Thank you Jesus. I then began to take shots everyday to help my body produce stem cells in preparation for


stem cell harvesting. I was lucky in that I would be able to use my own stem cells. My wife gave me the shots once a day, then twice a day for a few days. Those shots made me feel terrible. They caused severe bone pain and gave me horrible headaches. Finally the time came to collect my own stem cells and store them for later. I went in to the hospital early in the morning and prepared to collect the cells. The process was surprisingly easy, but it took pretty much all day. I lay down in a hospital bed and was hooked up to this big machine that


did all the work. Once finished I remember looking at this small bag of red, thin-looking fluid and thinking, wow- this is going to save my life, huh? They assured me I would see these cells again, and while they looked small they were in fact very important. The cells were sent to be tested and frozen and I went home. The charge nurse on that unit called me that night and told me I had collected 4.69 million cells, and the doctor wanted 4-5 million so I did not have to come back the next day. Whew! The next 2 weeks I got to have a ‘break’. No appointments, no


infusions, no lab tests, just time at home to rest, recover, and prepare for the long road ahead. !

For the next couple weeks, I was trying to prepare my family and myself before going into the hospital for nearly a month. During those weeks preparing, my wife and I focused on what would make the stay in the hospital a little more tolerable. Rachel printed out pictures to hang around the room. We bought soap and air fresheners from Bath and Body Works.


Rachel cooked meals so I wouldn't have to eat the hospital food too much. She also made a schedule of who would take care of our kids while we were gone and who would be with me when she wasn't there so I wouldn't ever have to be alone. !

Then the big day came-- Saturday, April 26th. I remember the morning when the charge nurse called and it was time for me to report the hospital. I asked could we come later that day rather than sooner but she needed me to be there immediately. I


just felt like I didn't have enough time to prepare... MYSELF. The kids understood Daddy was going to be gone for a while, but they were going to visit their grandparents and cousins so they were excited. Getting ready that morning was so hard. Just felt like I was heading to the electric chair or something. It usually takes about 35-45 minutes to get to the hospital, but for some reason that ride felt like 5 minutes. As I was going up to the elevator to the 8th floor, I began to blink a few times and pinch myself just to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Room


808 was the room I was admitted into. First thing I thought of was Kanye West's "808's & Heartbreak" That was pretty much the vibe I was in. I was given a drug called Kepivance for three days prior to admission that gave me a white coating around my mouth to prevent ulcers. This made it real diďŹƒcult to eat because food just didn't taste like anything and the feeling it gave my tongue made me gag. !

I started my second regimen that night called BEAM. Out of the three regimens of


ABVD,ICE, and BEAM I would say BEAM gave me the worst feeling of just wanting to lay around and do nothing. I lost most of my hair with the ICE regimen, but BEAM took everything else o-- eyebrows, eyelashes, etc. My head was extremely cold at night, so I usually wore a beanie but I tried to keep it o for when the nurse took my temperature. I walked everyday to keep my legs moving and circulation going. I walked usually two to three miles a day on the 8th floor hallways. 21 laps around the nurses station equaled one mile. My wife and I


would walk my laps together listening to music and talking about our next vacation. I thought about food a lot because I couldn't really taste at the time. I thought about basketball and how I couldn’t wait to be able to really play again. I thought about my kids, wondering if they were thinking about me. I thought about what direction God would take my music or if I would even continue to do music. I knew the main focus for me was to just rest and get better which I was frequently reminded by wife. I shouldn't be in such a rush- I was told, and I need to take


it slow as possible and everything would be back to normal eventually. !

My wife decorated the room very nicely with pictures everywhere, and I mean everywhere. She wanted me to not be able to look anywhere in the room and not remember my purpose for being there. The days would drag, but it was nice when I was able to go outside and sit on the benches and watch the people pass by. Fatigue, nausea, decreased appetite and diarrhea would come, but the medication helped


with my symptom management. The chemotherapy went fairly smoothly, and the nurses and doctors would all comment on how well I was doing.  “Finally, I can do something right.� I would think. We met some great people that were patients on the floor as well. You come to almost develop a second family, and you begin to realize that this is all much bigger than you. I would check on my new friends daily and try to be an encouragement to them. I found it to be therapeutic for me to pray for and speak life into other patients, and they received the


words with open hearts and minds. We were all hungry for hope and looking for the same things: peace and healing. !

May 2nd was the day I was going to have my transplant, and it came quicker than I expected. I was told I would be given a bunch of meds prior to the infusion of stem cells that would make me sleep for most the day. The time came and the meds were given and I can recall feeling very loopy. I never fell asleep, because I didn’t want to miss anything. The infusion was pretty


uneventful. I received 2 bags of the cells and then the recovery process began. Now finally I was taken off of the maintenance IV fluids, which meant I could do my laps without my pole. Small things can really make a huge difference. Each day was different. Some days were pretty good and others were terrible, but I always had someone there (95% of the time my wife) to encourage me to keep going. My wife and I started a T-Shirt Campaign called "No One Fights Alone". The shirts stated HEal CANcer on the front. We got a great


response from the campaign, which was unbelievable. Watching the campaign grow helped the time pass in the hospital. Our goal was to raise awareness and spread the gospel. It’s amazing how a basic shirt design could bless so many people and open so many conversations and opportunities for people to share their testimony. People really are searching for something greater, no matter their situation. !

Being in the hospital for a while causes you miss out on a lot. My daughters Pre-K


graduation was one of those things I wish I could have been around for. I remember talking to her on FaceTime wiping away my tears and apologizing that I couldn't be there. Luckily my wife went and took video so I could see my little girl walk across that stage. I may have had to miss that, but only in eort to be there for all her graduations to come. !

Eventually the day came for my discharge! It was such an emotion- filled day. I was so glad to be able to get that


trifusion line out. I was ecstatic to be going home, but also sad because I knew some of my friends had to stay and I had become very close with the sta. I walked one final lap around the unit and then said my goodbyes, and with tears in my eyes I was escorted by wheelchair to the front door. As my wife drove away, I looked back to see the hospital building in the rear view and was speechless. It was done. Everything I had been so worried about was over and I was going home! Now, I honestly didn’t physically feel that great, but my pure joy to


be able to go home overshadowed the way my body felt. My kids met me at home with a huge banner that said ‘Welcome home Daddy!’ The look on my babies’ faces when they saw me home was surreal. They were completely happy. !

I am currently 26 days post transplant and I have found it best to take one day at a time and deal with things as they come. The fatigue is undeniable, but the nausea and my appetite have gotten better. The doctors tell me that the fatigue will get better with


time. I cannot wait for that day, because I am going crazy not being able to play basketball. My outlook on life has undoubtedly changed. Things that I used to worry about are insignificant now. I enjoy every moment with the kids and don’t sweat the small stu. I have seen and experienced firsthand how precious life is, and how quickly things can change. I have a firm belief that I am healed, and I am looking forward to celebrating my complete remission after my final PET scan that will be in August.


!

Now as I sit at home and look back on everything I am overwhelmed. It has been a long time coming, and I am changed forever. Honestly, I still have bad days (who doesn’t?), but now after all I have been through, even my bad days are good days comparatively. This whole cancer experience has taken a lot from me, but it no longer has a hold on me. It will forever be a part of me, but that is all- just a part. So I guess this is me now: Greg Collins Jr.-- husband, father,


son, musician/artist artist, and now SURVIVOR! !

We live in a broken world where sickness, sadness, fear and desperation surround us. Many of us live in fear of the future, or hopelessly in our own reality. I can relate to each of these situations, but I’m excited to be able to share how my story changed to one of Hope and Healing through my redeemer Jesus Christ.I have been at the lowest I’ve ever been battling sickness and doubt. I realized I could not do this alone,


but I was encouraged to know that I did not have to. I remember someone told me that iron sharpens iron and we all need to hold each other accountable. Cancer has the ability to connect people on such a level that is often only shared with fellow survivors. Take advantage of that and help others. Through prayer and devotion, God revealed to me His almighty power and His anointed purpose for my life during all this. I encourage all the readers of my story to pray. It’s amazing what miracles will be revealed and how much clarity you will


receive. There is endless hope and peace in the presence of Jesus. Never give up, and never stop fighting. There is light at the end of the tunnel, although it may be very faint at times. I/we may never know the purpose behind our cancer, illness, or grief, but after conquering all of these things it is clear that your life does have a purpose. Pursue it with unwavering faith. !

I know I couldn't have gone through this without my family and friends. The support I received from my job was awesome. My


Generation Church family were always loving and eager to help. They always asked if we needed anything, sometimes they did things without asking. I really appreciate my parents and in-laws for always helping out with the kids and sending them back to us spoiled. I would like to thank my closest friends, who not only encouraged me on the daily, but also helped in ways you couldn't imagine. Each card sent, message received, meal prepared, and prayer sent up was appreciated and accepted with love. It all mattered, and it all made a dierence. What


more can I say to my wife?,I believe whatever I say is going to be an understatement. You've been there from the beginning. You've seen me laugh, you've seen cry. We've prayed and praised together, asking God for peace. You are there whether I wake up at home or in the hospital, always right by my side the whole time. I don't know what I would do without you, I love you more and more each day. You reassure me everyday that I'm Not Fighting Alone. I sometimes think ‘thank you’ is not enough. Words could never express, nor money ever


repay you for the amount love I felt from you all. Thank you, and I love you all dearly! !

Open Letter: Dear Greg, !

I know you've been feeling like you've been going through hell lately, but just hold on, you can't give up. This pain is only temporary; God's promise is forever. Stop feeling that you have to put everything on your shoulders. The Bible says in Luke 18:27 “No chance at all,” Jesus said, “if you think


you can pull it off by yourself. Every chance in the world if you trust God to do it.” !

Stop feeling that this is all your fault; there is nothing- I mean nothing- that you could've done to prevent this. This is life. You are not fighting alone, all your family and friends are there with you. Most importantly, God wants your pain. Put all your trust in Him,and He will make all things new. Find peace and joy in Christ, He is your strength. Matthew 11:28-30 says, Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who


are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.� !

God has given you a great gift to be light in dark places. Keep encouraging and uplifting others with your spirit and through your music. Many souls are out there that need to hear about Gods grace and mercy. Regardless of your circumstances, you have


a purpose. Keep loving on your lovely wife and kids, that's what it's all about. Keep pouring into their lives and let them warm your heart. Don't take anything for granted. Take advantage of every opportunity given to you. Now Live...... Self @GMERIQ !



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