I woke softly in the pre-dawn hours, swimming up from the blue depths of a forgotten dream. Marian’s soft breathing advised me to be silent. It was 5:30 AM and my head was as fuzzy inside as outside. Still, I began my morning search: Could I feel my hands? Yes. Could I feel my toes? Yes. Did I feel any pain in my chest, my throat, or my abdomen? No...Yes...No. I had a crick in my neck from sleeping propped up and my mouth felt like a desert camp site. Since my heart was obviously beating, I decided to get up.
I wobbled about in the dark room -- a Weeble without a clue -- trying not to stumble or trip and wake up Marian. Quietly, I took my three morning meds that must be taken on an empty stomach, and wandered off to the water closet to begin the day. It sounds rather prosaic and ordinary, but is the golden glow of my day -- the gift of another day of life, and I silently revel in the wonder of the ordinary.
A quick bottle of EnsurePlus, a cup of Earl Grey tea, and we’re off to the hospital to try to ascertain what is going on inside me. The numbers are good: Hemo is 9.0, leukocytes (WBC) is up to 3.2, and my ANC is 1.9. Platelets are up to 167,000 -- pretty much in normal range. I only wish my energy levels would start climbing soon. They gave me an extra bag of fluids and sent us back to the transplant house.
Gift of the Ordinary
One gift of my situation is the total lack of an ordinary day. Now that I know what each day means to me, each day has become an individual being, an acquaintance, a friend to be cherished while present and never forgotten. I know I long had the habit of always living in the future and the past, and just sort of existing in the “now.” I have come to believe that the “now” is all we really have. The past is memory, and while it can be an interesting place to visit, I cannot live there for all remains unchangeable. The future simply has not arrived yet, and all the worrying in the world won’t stop its coming. I cannot live there, it is not finished yet.
This morning, while waiting for my appointment, I simply took the time with Marian to sit in the sunshine on the 9th Floor of the Gonda Building (a huge glass wall), and turn inward to experience what I could of what was happening inside me. I found the time relaxing and special and helped me feel really alive
Proud Mary
Marian waited two hours for the WalMart Shuttle this afternoon, and it never showed. She finally got mad enough at the delay that she took our car and drove to the local HyVee grocery store. Score one for Marian -- she made it there and back -- with the salmon fillets for tonight’s dinner.
Later in the morning, we became aware of the 8.8 earthquake near Japan and the terrible devastation. My prayers will be joining yours (I am certain) that the death toll will be lower than predicted and that help will reach survivors as soon as humanly possible.
Well that is the tale of a day in the life and despite tragedies on the world stage, a very welcome day it was. We still relish your prayers and wonderful messages. Thank you for gifts of love.
God bless,
Mick