The story of a mother who surpassed 10 years after being told she wouldn’t live more than 6 months due to brainstem cancer.
Bu Ninuk when she passed 5 and 10 years since being diagnosed with brainstem cancer.
““Every night I called. Not to check if she was well or not. But I wanted to make sure she was still alive,” said her husband, Pak Edi, choking back tears.”
***
“This is my most rebellious patient. Only one month after using the device, she fled to Mecca for Umrah,” said Pak Warsito, introducing her to me.
Bu Ninuk just giggled at the reprimand.
At the end of 2012, Bu Ninuk was diagnosed with brainstem cancer. Initially, she often experienced migraines. According to the doctor, Bu Ninuk’s migraines were caused by stomach problems, possibly due to irregular eating, stress, and lack of rest.
However, the pain in her head became more unbearable each day. Eventually, she went to the hospital and was advised to undergo an MRI after suffering from severe headaches and nearly fainting.
The MRI results revealed that Bu Ninuk had brainstem cancer.
By the end of December 2012, she was completely bedridden and had to remain hospitalized.
“At that time, I thought I would just lie there helplessly…,” recalled Bu Ninuk of those terrifying moments.
“All I could think about was my children, who still needed my guidance and love. My eldest was in the third year of junior high school and needed support before his exams, and my youngest was still in elementary school.”
Her limited understanding of cancer and her very weak body left her unable to think about her condition.
Two weeks after being hospitalized with no specific treatment for her cancer, Bu Ninuk was sent home, still in a helpless state. There was nothing the doctors could do for her condition.
“At that time, I thought I was cured because, logically, a patient is sent home when they are healthy.” That’s what she thought.
At home, Bu Ninuk tried to engage in activities. But after only a few days, her condition worsened again. She began to feel the excruciating pain in her head once more and had to be taken back to the hospital.
“I could only feel sadness, seeing her in bed, curled up like a shrimp from the unbearable pain,” said Pak Edi, Bu Ninuk’s husband. “She constantly asked for massages because of the pain.”
In the midst of their despair, Pak Edi and his brother-in-law, Dian, and her husband sought answers from the doctors about the illness afflicting their beloved, who had shown no signs of recovery.
“We can only help ease her pain, not cure the disease,” the doctor said. There was nothing they could do for the brainstem cancer, which was located in the middle of the brainstem. The doctor also said that her life expectancy was no more than six months.
Pak Edi felt a mix of anger, sadness, and disappointment. He wanted to scream curses after hearing the diagnosis.
Pak Edi left the room to calm himself, trying to release all the anger, sadness, and disappointment in his heart.
When someone offered him a cigarette, he took it and smoked it until it was finished. Once he calmed down, he realized he had never smoked before.
“I never smoked, and I didn’t even realize I had smoked it until it was gone,” he explained.
Many things disappeared from their daily lives during Bu Ninuk’s illness. Her nagging, which used to sometimes annoy the whole household, had now become something he missed about the woman who lay there in pain.
Dian, Bu Ninuk’s sister, was no less heartbroken after hearing the doctor’s explanation about her sister.
“I was deeply shocked; I cried every night at home. Mbak Nuk is my only sister, and we are very close,” Dian recounted.
“Especially after hearing from the doctor that based on their experience with similar cases, the patient’s life expectancy is only 3-6 months.”
Dian was terrified of losing her beloved sister. She couldn’t imagine life without Mbak Nuk, the person she always turned to for advice and comfort.
For a moment, Dian felt that God was unjust in giving her sister such a heavy trial, despite knowing how devoutly she worshiped.
Even though everyone spoke of hope and healing, Dian knew that, deep down, she was watching her sister’s life slip away, seeing only a grave that would separate them.
The doctor’s explanation seemed to put an end to all hope for her to continue sharing life with her beloved sister, crushing their long-planned dream of performing Umrah together as a family.
Only prayers and tears accompanied Dian’s days, even though she tried to appear calm in front of Mbak Nuk, so that her sister wouldn’t ask about her illness.
Time continued to pass, and the family kept searching for information and solutions for Bu Ninuk.
One day, a doctor at a hospital offered the option of surgery, though with high risks and no guarantee of success.
The option of surgery was briefly considered by the family. Despite the risks, perhaps it was better than doing nothing at all.
But when they saw the cost estimate from the hospital, the family gave up. IDR 250 million for one surgery, and it would need to be performed two or three times.
It was a large sum of money for Bu Ninuk’s family. They surrendered, leaving everything in God’s hands, while continuing to pray for Bu Ninuk’s recovery.
Bu Ninuk’s condition continued to worsen. Her eyes became more crossed, half of her body was paralyzed and unable to move. She was bedridden, writhing in pain.
Every day, a nurse came to inject fluid into her IV drip, causing a burning sensation in her body.
The man who was once annoyed by her constant nagging now loyally tended to her every request. He massaged her throughout the night to ease her pain. He catered to her every need, even though he had to go to work the next morning.
“My husband never tired of caring for me. He fed me, bathed me, and changed my clothes,” Bu Ninuk recalled those terrifying times. “Being bathed while still alive isn’t fun at all,” she joked.
The man she had once found irritating with his rough tone had now become the one she relied on for everything.
“He even changed my sanitary pads during my menstruation, even though he could have called a nurse to do it,” said Bu Ninuk.
“At that moment, I felt so grateful to be surrounded by so much love. My husband, my children, my family—all so caring. I continued to pray for recovery, so I could repay all their kindness,” she expressed.
How precious God’s gifts are. How great the blessing of life in a world full of possibilities. Even when disaster strikes, and life feels like a curse.
By reflecting on life’s hardships, we can learn to set aside emotions when faced with signs of losing ourselves.
One day in January 2013, Pak Edi received information from a friend about cancer treatment in Tangerang. His friend’s wife had also been diagnosed with cancer. Although she could not be saved in the end, the friend urged Pak Edi to go to the cancer clinic in Tangerang immediately, so he wouldn’t be too late like they had been.
Pak Edi immediately set off to find the address of the clinic, even though he wasn’t familiar with Tangerang.
“I took a bus heading to Tangerang. I sat in the back row, knowing that the conductor usually sat there after collecting fares, so I could ask him for directions,” said Pak Edi, recounting his journey.
Pak Edi had no idea what he would find at the cancer research clinic his friend had recommended. He didn’t ask many questions because his friend’s wife had just passed away after they had received information about the cancer device invented by Warsito in Tangerang.
He was dropped off at the nearest point to the address he had shown the conductor.
“When I got off the bus on the main road, I was confused about which way to go. It wasn’t like now, where you could use Google Maps,” he said.
“I saw an ojek driver standing by. I didn’t know if he was a real ojek driver or just sitting on his motorbike, but I needed help,” Pak Edi explained.
The ojek driver happened to know the address and didn’t even charge him, wanting to help someone in need.
“I spoke to the lady at the reception desk and explained that I was seeking treatment for my wife,” said Pak Edi. He showed all the documents he had brought and explained that his wife was unable to come with him.
Pak Edi waited for a long time—from 9 a.m. until 3 p.m.—before he was finally called. When he entered the room, he didn’t meet Pak Warsito. Instead, he was greeted by a young man who seemed quite knowledgeable. His name was Vian.
“That young man explained my wife’s case and the device called ECCT,” said Pak Edi.
“I wasn’t sure if he was a doctor or a tailor because after explaining the device, he asked me to measure my wife’s head, neck, and body.”
It wasn’t until later that Pak Edi realized the young man was a medical physicist. I also learned that there is a registered healthcare profession in the Ministry of Health called medical physics.
Pak Edi didn’t understand the device that was being made for his wife. He didn’t even know what to ask because he knew nothing about it.
He only remembered his friend’s insistence that he come here. He believed it was a good sign for his wife’s recovery.
Finally, after getting the necessary measurements, Pak Edi was told to wait while the device was being made.
“At that time, I just surrendered, but I was optimistic that this was the best path for my wife, the mother of my children. I couldn’t bear seeing her in pain every day.”
Eventually, Pak Edi was called again because the device was ready, and he had to settle the administrative fees.
“I was really confused because I didn’t have the money. I ended up calling my sister and asked her to transfer the money right then and there,” he recounted. Fortunately, his sister had the funds and could help immediately, allowing him to bring the device home.
He received the device, which consisted of a thin cap resembling a helmet connected to a box with small batteries that powered the device.
When God extends His hand, everything becomes easier.
It was already late in the evening. After taking an ojek back to the main road, Pak Edi waited for a bus to Jakarta, just like he had in the morning.
However, after nearly an hour, no buses heading to Jakarta had passed. Pak Edi approached a man fixing a tire and asked him.
“The buses stop running at 4 p.m., sir,” said the man with a Batak accent. He helped Pak Edi by flagging down passing cars. But Pak Edi couldn’t understand the conversation between the man and the driver he stopped. They weren’t speaking German, which Pak Edi didn’t know, but Batak, which he understood even less.
But once again, God’s help arrived. In that moment of confusion, Pak Edi realized the man had asked the driver to take him to the nearest bus stop for buses heading to Jakarta.
Pak Edi was reunited with his soulmate. When he arrived at the hospital, he said to his wife,
“Tomorrow morning, we’ll take care of the paperwork so we can go home.”
Bu Ninuk complied, helpless as she was.
“At that time, I just surrendered. I didn’t think about what this black helmet was, how it worked, or whether it could heal me,” said Bu Ninuk.
“We’ll use this device at home. I’m sure this is the path God has provided for us,” said Pak Edi.
He was so confident in the device, even though its effectiveness had not yet been proven.
They began their journey with ECCT. A few days after using the device, Bu Ninuk started to show signs of improvement. Her eyes began to return to their normal position. At first, the movement was very slow, and it made her dizzy. Eventually, they agreed to cover the still-impaired eye until it fully recovered. Her arms and legs also began to regain movement.
Pak Edi’s longing for Bu Ninuk’s nagging was satisfied.
“When she’s mad, ranting, she’s like a champion. The whole house feels like it’s on trial. She’s amazing. She’s the best. That makes me so happy,” said Pak Edi.
He would tell the children, “Do you know the sign that your mother is getting better?” he asked Abim and Ibam, their children. “When she starts getting mad, that means she’s healthy. When she’s sick, she only groans in pain.”
I could imagine how irritated Bu Ninuk must have felt, ranting like that, only for her audience to grin back at her. Surely, the thought of grabbing a kitchen tool to knock some sense into them crossed her mind.
We must fully understand that marriage goes through ups and downs. There will be tears and laughter, hardship and joy.
Marriage doesn’t promise a path filled with flowers.
Forgiving one another, understanding the good and bad in each other, is the greatest gift in life.
The more intimately we live together, The more we experience everything together. Whether after eating jengkol or durian. Whether in peace or in a spat. Whether broke or blocked. Whether fragrant or foul.
The chances of conflict grow larger.
But the moments we cherish the most are when our sparring partner doesn’t fight back.
Within a few weeks, Bu Ninuk was able to resume some activities, though not fully back to normal, aided by regular physical therapy. Of course, she was accompanied by the most “annoying” man on earth—her husband.
Two weeks after using the ECCT device, Bu Ninuk asked for permission to go on Umrah with her family, as they had long planned.
Pak Edi’s heart was still heavy. “She was still dragging her feet when she insisted on going for Umrah,” he recalled.
But he didn’t have the courage to forbid her. He was afraid that preventing her from going might have a negative effect on her recovery, leading to regret in the future.
“Though with a heavy heart, I let her go. I entrusted her to her brother and Dian, her sister, and her fellow travelers,” said Pak Edi.
All he could do was pray throughout her departure, amid his anxiety.
“Every night, I called. Not to check if she was well.” Here, Pak Edi’s voice cracked as he held back tears. “But I wanted to make sure she was still alive.”
Cancer is not like someone swallowing a seed, where, as grandma says, it could grow into a tree inside you.
Cancer is a great battle that affects every aspect of someone’s life and their family’s. It can tear someone’s life apart.
“And it was attacking my wife, my soulmate,” said Pak Edi. “As the days passed, I realized more and more that I couldn’t live without her.”
I tried to understand all the feelings in Pak Edi’s heart at that moment. And I began to appreciate the small things that had often gone unnoticed by me.
Feeling the breeze, a simple pleasure that brings immense happiness. God’s design is simple yet perfect, but we humans tend to complicate it.
We are always taught compassion.
Now I know that every human being strives to reach their final goal. So, what future awaits someone who defeats cancer? Life, learning, and love. If we turn away from love, we gain nothing in life.
I came to realize how precious life is.
If we are struck by such heavy, relentless challenges, it’s God’s way of building a strong foundation within us.
The process isn’t easy. It’s not quick. But once the foundation is strong and firm, it can bear any burden.
God doesn’t give us problems for no reason. He wants us to be strong, not weak.
Being positive in the face of life’s trials isn’t easy. It takes time and an open heart to feel God’s grace.
Eventually, Bu Ninuk left for Umrah with her family, despite not being fully healthy. But she had faith that she would be fine there, along with her cancer helmet.
“I wore this black cancer helmet throughout my pilgrimage,” said Bu Ninuk. “Because of this device, I was able to make it to the Holy Land and fulfill my long-held wish to perform Umrah with my family.”
Deep in her heart, she was immensely grateful for the blessing God had given her. Just when hope seemed to fade and the light was dimming, He poured out His grace like heavy rain on a barren desert.
In the Holy Land, Bu Ninuk was enthusiastic about performing all the rituals, despite her limitations.
“All our worries disappeared while we were in the Holy Land,” said her sister, Dian, who accompanied her. “Every time the prayer call came, Mbak Nuk would go to the mosque, while I, who was healthy, sometimes got tired.”
At first, they had imagined pushing two wheelchairs during the pilgrimage—one for their elderly mother and one for Bu Ninuk, who was still sick.
But the will to recover and God’s miracle for Bu Ninuk erased all signs of the death sentence that had once loomed over her, as if written on sand washed away by the waves.
“During my time in the Holy Land, I prayed every day for my recovery and for the people who had helped me during my illness,” she shared.
“Every day, I poured Zamzam water over my head and drenched my entire body during my bath, praying for all my illnesses to leave.”
Finally, it was time to return home. Pak Edi anxiously waited for his wife’s arrival in the arrivals area of Soekarno-Hatta Airport.
His mother-in-law came out first, being pushed by his brother-in-law, Bu Ninuk’s brother.
Not long after, Dian emerged, alone. Pak Edi grew nervous. “Where is she?” His mind raced with anxiety.
“Where’s your sister?” Pak Edi asked, his emotions a mix of longing, worry, and frustration at Dian for leaving her sick sister behind. His head was full of questions and concerns.
“Just as I was starting to panic, she appeared, pushing a large trolley full of her suitcases.” Pak Edi began to cry again, recalling that moment. “She was walking. I saw her walk. Not dragging her feet…”
Only words of gratitude filled the air as he wept tears of joy. He hugged and kissed his wife with deep thankfulness.
Even though the world is full of suffering, it is also full of triumph.
A week after returning from Mecca, Bu Ninuk met Pak Warsito for the first time.
“When he saw my face, Pak Warsito looked confused, as if he couldn’t believe it. He kept glancing at the computer screen in front of him, observing my MRI scan, and then looking back at me without saying anything. After several times of glancing back and forth, he asked, ‘Are you really Bu Ninuk Wulandari?’”
“Yes, sir,” said Bu Ninuk. “I just returned from Umrah,” she added without a hint of guilt.
“Umrah?” asked Pak Warsito, startled. “Umrah to Mecca?”
“Yes, sir,” answered Bu Ninuk.
“Who allowed you to go on Umrah?” asked Pak Warsito quickly, his tone slightly raised. “Do you know about your condition? Your cancer is gripping the nerves of your heart and lungs in the brainstem. If you had a sudden drop, you wouldn’t have survived,” explained Pak Warsito, seeming panicked.
Bu Ninuk felt a shiver down her spine, but still didn’t fully understand.
“But you’re okay?” asked Pak Warsito, his tone softening.
“No, sir. In fact, my walking improved after returning from Mecca,” answered Bu Ninuk. All Pak Warsito could do was shake his head.
After months of tears, they were finally wiped away. They realized how much they had in this life.
Life flies by, and no one knows when it will end.
And if God has not yet allowed you to rest in peace, no matter how close death may seem, it won’t happen.
Perhaps we still have duties to fulfill here.
That afternoon in early March 2020, amid news of COVID-19 in China, the sky seemed to cry. Lightning struck amidst the pouring rain. I gazed at the darkening sky as the evening drew near. The city lights were dimmed by the heavy rainstorm.
Bu Ninuk and I rushed to the hospital, braving the storm to visit Chelsea, a toddler fighting brainstem cancer. Together, we tried to offer a glimmer of hope to the little girl, who was accompanied by her young parents in the ICU.
There will always be hope, like a drop of dew in a barren desert, offering coolness and peace.
Sometimes it seems like God is teasing us. Hope appears briefly, only to be extinguished, or perhaps postponed. There are things we think are good for us, but only God knows what is best for us.
If darkness falls, let hope guide you. The sun will always rise, lighting your soul.
(NB)
About ECCT: https://c-techlabs.com/electro-capacitive-cancer-therapy-ecct-devices/
