September 23, 2008
Knowing that the molecules of air that float about in our universe are finite, today it causes one to think about what is carried into the lungs with each breath. This very air was above Texas, Oklahoma and Kansas just hours ago, and now here it is, carrying the remnants of other thoughts and considerations that were on the minds of inhabitants of those places. I dreamed of jungles and dark green leafy places that are not a part of my life experiences here at Sanctuary where all is turning brown and gold, so I would suppose that the strong winds from the south could be the source.
The phlebotomists at our local clinic spend their days drawing little vials of blood for purposes of tracking and reading a good number of health conditions. I have been through the door of the little room where this is done countless times, and each time the same question is asked of me. . . date of birth? Even though we all know each other very well by now, I have wondered what would happen if I altered the digits I recite automatically, or if I had a senior moment and simply forgot those numbers. I asked about it, and all I got in response was a smile. To date, the process remains too serious to try out anything other than what is asked of me. For some time now the results of the blood readings have meant that someone will call me to make sure that I am aware of the implications of the findings. At the beginning of the disease, when we looked at these very low white blood cell numbers, we were undone, but in this season of life we just proceed in the new “normal”. I wear leather gloves now, and I move quickly away from clusters of people, particularly if I hear coughing. In spite of the turmoil of economics, energy, wars, political posturing, and all other things one could choose to fret about, September has been beautiful and fine, and each day continues to be a lovely gift. Thanks be to God.