The Maybe, Not Really, But Actually Could Be, Bucket List

So he hands me a journal note book and a pen and he asks, "Would you start writing down stories that you have used over the years"? It was one of those times we had determined I had more time on my hands than I knew what to do with. I wasn't sure what he was getting at, but it has been there in the back of my mind nagging at me.  So I have decided to honor his request because I take it as a great compliment that Isaac should ask me to write, since he is such a great writer. Now I think it is important to note that stories told and stories written are not always the same. If I used a story in a sermon there were all kinds of advantages to the oral setting and spoken word. Trying to write that same story down on paper doesn't always communicate the same way. It is a different medium and involves a different skill. What Isaac was remembering was oral. Writing? That's a different beast for me. Remember? I so good at am not nor to become not likely very good. I am, however, going to start down that road since I'm at home twiddling my thumbs on Christmas Eve while they have headed off to Church and I'm at home avoiding crowds.  So I will start the endeavor or endeavor to start and this story tonight has special memories for us at Christmas because it is has to do with The Story.


The text that night was from John 1:14, that part about the Word becoming flesh and dwelling among us. I remember wanting to illustrate the experiential side of the story because the "dwelling among us" has the sense about it of "pitching a tent" and living with us. The story that came to mind was, of when Isaac was about 2 or 3 years old. It was night time and he was in  his crib in his room next to ours sound asleep. A storm comes up and it starts to lightning and thunder and he starts to wake up. In the dark he says, "Mommy, daddy, I'm scared". I call back, " Just lie down and go back to sleep. We're over here and you"ll be alright". It's quiet. Then more thunder. "Daddy, I'm still scared". "You're okay." I said, "Snuggle up with your stuffed animals. We are over here. You'll be okay". Ah.Quiet. See it worked Then there was more thunder. "Daddy, mommy I'm still scared". What to do. Try again. I said, "Isaac, you're okay. You have all your stuffed animals. Mommy and daddy are over here and God is watching over us and will keep us safe". (preacher types do that) Quiet again . And then softly from the other room came his voice, "Daddy, I'm still scared.  I want something with skin on it". Of course in a few seconds he was in bed with us.


In the middle of the dark night of this life God became flesh, literally puts on skin and dwelt - pitched his tent and lived in this world with us, because we were afraid crying out in the night.


To all of you from all of us Merry Christmas. Love abe and lynne


P.S. This is a true story and has been used by others and become almost public domain. I will vouch for that, in fact, Isaac , when he was about 10 negotiated a fee from me for using his story. I guess I owe him another $10

Being A Hermit In The Woods

Some of this is self evident. I must take precautions. Sometimes easier said than done. I must avoid contact with all possible sources of colds, influenzas A,B,C on through the alphabet, viruses or any other possible sources of infections. That translates into staying clear of places with high people traffic, contact with people especially during the flu season, no shaking hands, frequent hand sanitizing and all those things to protect myself. So Dirk, I will endeavor to work harder at being the hermit. It works well for me right now and it kind of grows on me.

The Wearing and Tearing

I carefully make sure the thermometer reads below 98*, and put it under my tongue and wait. For those few minutes I am in suspense. It's not the suspense of unwrapping a present. No not at all. This suspense seems to wear away at the insides. Some history here might help put this in perspective. With the leukemia my immune system is compromised. I can not fight off the things I used to be able to fight off. I have been told repeatedly, lectured many times, and admonished over and over again, to watch the temperature. IF IT GOES OVER 100.4 GET TO MDA EMERGENCY. NO IFS, ANDS, OR BUTS. On 2 occasions that has happened. I have ended up in the ER and been hospitalized with infections of unknown origins. These symptoms usually start with a cold or the flu or a virus. Those were not good memories. The last infection happened on the day Josh died. I had had chemo that week and we were all together in Dallas because Josh's condition had deteriorated so badly. That Sunday morning he died. I had not been feeling well and had been vomiting. By the time we got back to Houston I began to get worse. I went to bed and woke up with a fever. That was "the Deputy escorted trip" to MDA at night and the hospital stay that had, the heart wrenching grief of losing Josh, and my own illness, all mixed up together and  I was trying to get better so I could be at his funeral with the Dr. allowing me to go home with IV antibiotics that I would administer at home and was still doing the day of Josh's funeral.
                                                                                

 All of those associations are there. Lately I have had some cold symptoms. So I'm taking my temperature. The Bounty from the last blog is now doing double duty for nasal as well. I am taking my temperature frequently. I am monitoring for chills and sweats. I had felt chilled earlier in the evening and used a heating pad when I went to bed. About midnight I began to warm up and toss back the blankets. I was feeling warm. Almost sweaty. Now I'm AWAKE. The real test is my temperature.  So as I try to read the thermometer I feel the suspense. In that moment, maybe not consciously, but felt none the less, is all of that emotion of Josh's dying, my having cancer, and my always being at risk of an infection that could kill me.  As I roll the thermometer I see the temp. 98* and not a bit higher. I exhale. In that 5 minutes a lot of emotion just bowls right on through and that's the wear and tear of the disease. CANCER SUCKS AND IT CHANGES EVERYTHING.

It's Four In The Morning

It's 4 o'clock in the morning. I am sitting in a lawn chair watching over 2 briskets smoking in the pits having my 2nd cup of coffee. It will take about 10 to 12 hours at 225 to 250 degrees. I'm not an expert nor an old timer. Enjoy it  though I do - the process - the wait - and the taste. It's festive. I have been looking forward to doing this for some time now. The fire is just about right now at 250, give or take a tad. Good enough. Not rocket science but good enough. Why would I sit in 50 degree weather tending fire boxes watching meat cook at 4 in the morning? It's cold. It's dark. It's smokey. It's fun and it's tradition. Here's what I'm thinking is happening. I'm beginning to do "bucket list" type things. I'm beginning to look at things like Christmas and the seasons and the visceral feelings that go with them, the leaves turning on not just the trees but on the red oak I planted in the front yard at our old house, and the elm that is growing in the garden area that just showed up and the color is a shade of yellow that I never much cared for, that is until Josh had said he liked that color so I do now as well and the citrus trees Isaac and I planted this spring after last winter's freeze and the savoring and ceremonial eating of the handful of fruit especially the navel orange. I'm beginning to approach things with the notion that I want to savor them and extract out of each and every experience, all that I can. Why? I am going up against a procedure, the Stem Cell Transplant, that can extend my life and in the process of doing that, it can also end it as well. Morbid? Could be. Pessimistic? Maybe. Whatever it is,  it is real. The result. I want to enjoy, to the fullest, those days I am given and savor the flavors the days have to offer. Today the flavor is Texas Brisket. It's not just for today but some will be saved for the time the hospital food needs some enhancement. I"m really, really, really looking forward to that brisket for the present and for the tomorrows I have.

Bounty Instead of Kleenex

It is Sunday morning and I have always been an early riser and mornings are often a mixed bag. I have coffee. I may do a load of dishes, clean up the kitchen, watch the news, do my physical therapy exercises or whatever. The last few days I have become aware again of my CANCER and this morning that was acute. Yes, I live every day with this disease, however for a few weeks now I have been able to forget about it somewhat or at least its below the conscious radar. The last few days though, everything changed. The dis-ease with the disease has become front and center. Mix that up with memories of Josh,  of holding his ashes, of remembering that last year at Christmas I felt it would be our last one together, and  of this morning reading again his post on his blog when we first found out I had leukemia and the love he expressed. Kleenex just could not handle all of that bundled up emotion. It's taking big chunks of Bounty as I reach for another. Powerful they are, these episodes of emotional floodings, with a power of their own, causing a body  to shed so much fluid and causing so much anguish that the body physically trembles. There goes some more towels.

Here's the kicker! I'm getting ready again for the transplant. Back last summer when we first found out Dirk was a match we, (all of us) spent a great deal of energy including physical, emotional, financial, and you name it we did it all that was necessary,  energy, to make this happen. It didn't. For several weeks I have known we would not have any news while an unrelated donor search began.  I also have not had appointments at MDA. It has been somewhat of a vacation from the disease. I've been able to exhale. Well, this week the results are in. We have  heard now again of donor matches . And just like that I suddenly realised that, emotionally, I'm right there back at that edge. Again. Did I say edge? Let's try ledge. It's scary, that unknown, and to have come close before and to have had an opportunity to step back and now, now, to start again towards it, well?  Well I don't relish it nor do I venture out to the precipice without  a strong dose of reality. And that raises the fear factor. Up to 4 weeks in the hospital, 3 months living in the Medical Center, frequent blood transfusions, staying free of infections, all of it to come out on the other end with a new lease on life. Sounds like a plan.  Jesus, on the cross, had to let go of control and give all of the chaos over into his Father's hands. I can do no less and and continually commend all of this chaos to my Heavenly Father's hands. In the meantime hand me the Bounty and the Brawny.                                                                                                                                                        

An Anniversary

It was Dec. 10, 2010. My brother Dirk and I were lifting a heavy steel frame for stacking fire wood. We were moving it by rolling end over end. While lifting it on about the 3rd roll I felt something give in the small of  my back. It hurt some but I kept going. We finished the move and the aching continued. Usually when I get a sore back it lasts about a week or so and it goes away. This time it didn't, in fact it became worse, a lot worse. On Jan. 3 of this year I went to see our family Dr. to have a look and to have a physical exam while I was at it which included blood work.  A week later I get the results of the labs and the Dr. says he wants to retest, that there were some scores that were off and needed to be rechecked. We did. Results were the same and I was stunned when he referred me to an oncologist. That was the rocky road that led to finding out I had cancer, leukemia to be more exact. About the back? I ended up going to an orthopedic surgeon. Three crushed vertebrae and surgery  a month later, resulted in some restorative work but chronic pain remains.

My point? A year ago today I almost broke my back, which got me to the doctor, which led to having a blood test, which revealed I had leukemia. It's been a rough road.

A year later we have news of  2 people who are matches, 10 out of 10, and a 3rd person's tests are pending. It will take another month after the selection of the donor is made before we count down to the actual Stem Cell Transplant. Here's to pain as a friend. Happy Anniversary.

Donors, The Next Step

Just a brief update. I got word from MDA that they have 2 matches that are possibilities. Both of these persons are 10 for 10 on the match scale and are willing to be donors. What happens next? I'm not sure yet. I will keep you posted. For the time being, "there is a tomorrow with someone in it who can help me", a loose quote from Fr. Henri Nouwen.