May 4, 2006
Yesterday was the blood draw day, and without consciously thinking about it, I had made the leap toward an expectation of higher readings. The white blood count sank back to 1.5, less than half of what it had been the week before. It was almost a physical blow to have the nurse tell me that number and when I shared the news with Charles I could see from the first expression on his face that he too was taken aback. Hope is a bit tricky. You absolutely must have it in order to carry on, but you cannot let it lead you to places beyond where you might go because if you do, the disappointment can flatten you. We talked again. “We can’t keep doing this” said Charles, “we have to learn to live life each day, and not go up and down all the time. . . nothing has changed except the information, otherwise the day is just as nice, and you feel just the same as you did before you knew the count had gone down.” The rational mind comes forward and pushes the wildly flailing emotions back into a secondary spot, and one begins again.
The morning breaks with very loud cardinal songs coming in through the bedroom window, and the silent inventory of body parts with “Thank you, Lord’s” for the wellness found, and “Help me today, Lord” for the rest. I always conclude with my version of the last part of Luther’s Morning Prayer, “For into your hands I give myself, body and soul and all things; let your holy angel be with me that the wicked foe may have no power over me, Amen”. The robins and rose breasted grosbeak have now added their songs to the cardinals and the day begins.