Yes, Patiently Waiting

Do you recall how in some of the earlier post we spoke of the waiting we did when we were down at MDA? Well that type of waiting often seemed to involve appointments moving slowly, Drs. being late, test results not being ready, and just about anything else you can imagine. Often I would be left feeling  frustrated, something like being ignored. I think I got to the point of rolling with that one. The clinics have struggled with that one themselves but it persists.

We are waiting again but this one is different. When my brother was here making his best effort to donate stem cells we waited. They waited. We waited. The waiting was done with the recognition he was giving a great deal of his time and energy to make this happen. There is nothing there, but reasons to be thankful. Waiting was not an issue for me because I knew I was not being ignored. Rather, Dirk and Elly made me their top priority and put everything out there for the stem cells to be donated. Unfortunately it did not happen. As a result MDA had to go to the National Registry to search for an unrelated donor. That's what we're waiting for now. That means someone out there that I do not know is willing to be a donor for me and we have never ever met and probably never will. I can wait very patiently for that and for as long as it takes  and do it thankfully. Presently from some 900 people, they have narrowed that down to 3 that have a lot of potential to be good matches and 2 of the 3 have sent samples to MDA for further lab work and the 3rd should be along shortly. The last word was that after Thanksgiving we should begin to get some results in. And so we wait excitedly, patiently and thankfully.

Birds of the Air

I had just taken a walk out to the neighbor's pasture to check on how the freshly seeded winter rye grass was growing. It looked good and had sprouted well. We have been treated to some welcome gentle showers of late. It looks like we will get some pasture for the horses for the winter and what with the price of hay in this, the year of the drought, it feels good. Those of you that are connected to the earth and the cycle of the seasons and feel in your gut, an association with plants and animals and all things Eden related, can appreciate how good it feels when things go well. It is in stark contrast to the tree killing drought we have been through. So as I'm going back to the house I'm enjoying the verdant vision. As I'm climbing over the fence I hear the chirping of a House Wren (Troglodytes aedon) in the shrubs. He's finding something to eat in there in the bushes and is joined by another wren. One of the remarkable things about the House Wren is they have a "big song" for such a tiny bird and they gave a great outdoor concert. They seemed so carefree and without a worry. They had shrubs, they had grubs, and they had a song. And I thought about what Jesus said that food and clothing should not unduly concern us. All we need to do is look to the birds of the air and the flowers of the field and there we should find  solace for our uneasiness and anxiety. The birds looked happy enough and well fed. The pasture could cause  Eeyore's mouth to water. That should lead us to believe we too are cared for as well. What I must include in this story is the fact that within a radius of 50 feet of where I sit are 4 dead pine trees. There was,  just not enough water, and they died in the last few months. Not a reassuring image about God's care taking of the trees of the field. You see, our son, Josh, died this year - 6 months ago. Lynne and I, have, and still do wrestle with that one. Not enough proverbial rain there to keep him alive. Not a reassuring image of God's care taking of his children. I know there is an answer there some where but we have yet to hear God's answer to this one. The wrens are happy. Eeyore's mouth is watering. Lynne and I, however, still carry a great deal of sadness.

The Stars Shine Bright

The other night I walked out onto the veranda. All around the stars were shinning brightly. We live far enough out so we don't get a lot of the brightness of the city lights. So moon and stars put on a pretty good show. Since it was not cold I stayed out there for awhile to take in the scene. My mind went to the story in Genesis of another time and place. That man was told to leave behind everything and everyone and follow another faith journey. Because he did so, he was assured that others would follow in his faith journey and come to believe as he did, in this same God of Abraham and of his son Isaac and later his grandson, Jacob. As Abraham looked to the skies he was told that those who came to believe as he, would be as numerous as the stars in the sky, unable to be counted. Just for the fun of it I started to count stars. You're right. I could not. The other Abraham also could not. But what struck me deeply was this and it is as bright as the stars were that night.  I am one. I am one who has  come to believe in that same God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. As for which one of those lights in the sky represents me, impossible to tell.
Why do I share this? First: because it was a warm and reassuring experience, perhaps like being cradled by some very large arms, arms that also cradle the whole world all the way from Genesis and beyond to the present and to the end of time. Second: I felt like I fit, I belong,  I have a place and I am in good hands.
He took him outside and said, "Look up at the heavens and count the stars--if indeed you can count them." Then he said to him, "So shall your offspring be." (NIV)

Still Waiting

On Wed. I had an appointment with Dr. Borthakur and the word is that the Leukemia is still behaving itself. All the blood counts looked good and their was no reason to be anxious (was feeling some of that) about the waiting for the search to continue. We have no word yet on how successful they have been on locating another donor. In the mean time we wait and after yesterday's word that should become easier. I am scheduled to have blood work monthly until they say they have one. I will keep you posted.

Correction

The other morning while I was half asleep I got to thinking about a word I had used in the last couple of posts. The word I used was "integral". That was not the word I wanted to use. I had said that the pain and the disease had become "integral" parts of my life. That makes it sound like they are necessary  or essential, certainly not what I intended. Constant, yes they are. Get used to them, yes I must. The "how of that" will take time and some conscious choosing. I do not want them to discolor my life in such a way that they suck the joy or purpose out of my life and that is the part that is the choosing. There are times I have felt how easy it would be to go down that road. Don't want to go there! Grumpy old people are so much fun aren't they? Meet a few. Don't want to be one.

Learning to live beyond the pain and the disease

On one of the previous blogs I wrote about how I am having to learn to live with pain and that it is an integral part of my life now and will probably be so for the rest of my life. It has become a sobering thought. Another way I am having to come to  terms with my new life  is the leukemia. As an example the other day someone asked me "How are you?". In that millesecond I wondered, did they want the salutatory answer or did they want the real answer and had they heard about the cancer or not. What do I answer. I simply answered, "I'm hanging in there." That seemed neutral enough and if they wanted to know more I would say more. They did not ask. We went on to other matters at hand. It has, though, become common for most conversations to center on the leukemia and how the treatment is going and how I am doing. Leukemia has become an integral part of my life and will continue to be so for the rest of my life. I remember Josh saying he would wake up sometimes and for awhile he would forget he had cancer. It never lasted he said. Even when I get the Stem Cell Transplant and all moves along as it is supposed to I will still be dealing with this disease for the rest of my life, getting tested over and over and over for the rest of my life. So I am learning to live with the pain and with the leukemia.

Time Marches On

It has been awhile since I have posted and it has been awhile since Isaac has as well. As far as my treatment goes we are waiting as the process of the search for a donor continues. We have only an appointment for the 16th with the oncologist and that I suspect is to monitor my condition. I spoke with a lady at the feed store about her dad yesterday. He was having all the tests done to receive the stem cell transplant after Thanksgiving. He is also a patient of Dr. Khouri and we are discovering some other similarities as well. Another transplant patient has recently found that the transplant did not work and the cancer has returned. They will try again. I continue to feel fairly well. We went to Dallas over the weekend to see Anna and Ethan and Kate. It's still hard to feel the void Josh has left. Anna had saved some of Josh's ashes that Lynne had requested and we brought them home with us. Anna and the kids had scattered some of his ashes in Schapville Illinois a few weeks back. The next memory laden event will be Thanksgiving in Dallas. That brings us up to date for now. We are marching ahead and moving along. We did have a nice rain yesterday and that feels good.