February 13, 2006
When I went in to the oncologist’s office this morning for the requested blood draw following the three additional injections of Neupogen, the waiting room was nearly empty with the exception of three young women. One of the three was holding a tiny baby wrapped in pink; the mother was frail and fair and quite beautiful with the telltale pallor of illness on her face.
The readings of the draw showed a remarkable improvement over the Friday’s results – and this was the first time that such a thing happened. Everything was better! The doctor even met with me with me though this was unscheduled. . . . “Perhaps I should do a little dance!” I suggested, but to this he looked at me with great gravity. “It is better, yes, but I trust you are remembering that you are a great distance from what is referred to as ‘normal’ ” but then he continued, “But it is good news because now you can return to your chemotherapy on Thursday as planned, and then we will hope that you will not drop as low again. You will go down, but not as far. Then we will know that you are responding to the therapy.” I still thought a little dance might be in order, but of course I applied restraint and only moved my feet back and forth a bit. Jubliation! [click to hear Charles play a happy song]
Immediately, the prayers come to mind. It is as though I have been sliding down a slope, unable to find a handhold to stop myself and all of that community of people who have said to me, “You are in our thoughts and prayers” extended a great collective hand over the edge to reach me and not only stop the descent, but to pull upward. Exultation!
“In the meanwhile. . . ” Each life has that part of the story moving along with it, and in ours, one segment is Alphie, our nine month old chocolate lab. While Charles is in Michigan and I am with friends in Lincoln, he is at a kennel where one of the objects of this time will be a bit of discipline. While he appears to have wonderful bloodlines, his line of ancestors have endowed him with huge size, huge mouth, mighty muscles, and boundless energy. In our four daily walks around the forty, the latest thing he was doing was picking up dead tree branches and carrying them along, head held triumphantly high. The branches were getting larger and thicker daily to the point where you would look back over your shoulder and say, “Oh my word!” and leap off the path because he would be coming at great speed carrying a small tree. The discipline is needed to assist him to understand that jumping up on ourselves and any other persons, most particularly dear children and grandchildren, is not good, even if his motivation is joy and delight.