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.