Mick McKellar Update--Day +82
In the silky silence of 2:00 AM I first heard the pitter-patter of sky tears on the roof. Our totally gray day remains saturated with cold water, and sufficient breeze to keep the intrepid walkers indoors and frustrated.
I continue to smear steroid cream on the rash and hope that it looks better tomorrow. The new medication, the Mepron suspension is thick and chrome yellow. Of course, the taste is awful and it is difficult to measure into 5ML doses. However, if by swallowing liquefied, chrome yellow chalk dust we can stop the hemolysis problem, then I am on the bus with correct change...
Today was a rest and healing day, giving me an opportunity to reflect on a chance encounter in the kitchen area this morning. Another BMT patient, very early in the process, wanted to talk about the risks. He was frightened by all the stuff that can go wrong. I told him that, after the doctors completed their mandatory checklist of all the possible side-effects and dangers, I was shaken as well. And I told him that I've experienced (and am experiencing) some of the same.
I also told him that I consider each new day a gift from God, that I take my meds, and live each day to the fullest. I am 82 days out from my transplant, the day my brother's blood and marrow granted me a chance on a new lease on this old rented house. I am almost a year out from the day leukemia nearly claimed my life the first time.
I am a lucky man indeed, and blessed with family and friends who pray for me. I remembered my days with the fear and uncertainty and that memory triggered the poem below.
Thank you for your cards, letters, e-mails, and communications. Thank you all for your prayers and good thoughts.
God bless, and good night.
Mick
And now, At the Edge
I saw in the eyes of a fellow BMT patient, the shadow of a place I call the abyss. He is beginning the transplant process, and fearful, was seeking reassurance. We talked for a few minutes, and I told him of my own fears, and how I found living a day at a time, understanding that each new day is a gift from God, overcomes the fear.
It is a dangerous risk we take when we receive a blood and marrow transplant, but the alternative is death. I very nearly died on May 26, 2010 -- the day I was diagnosed with leukemia -- a fast approaching anniversary. For a time, I wandered in the abyss, afraid and feeling very alone. Family and friends gathered quickly around and I discovered I was not alone. Now I can stand at the edge of that abyss and know it is only fear down there, and I can walk away and get on with living each day.
Mick
At the Edge
The abyss is always nearby you know,
Some days I stand and look over the edge.
I peer at the swirling maelstrom below,
And I struggle with unwanted knowledge,
Of what terror that depth-less darkness hides.
For I have beheld with benighted eyes,
The shadowy horror which there resides,
And with hopeless voice my future scries.
It was there I first heard the mouth of fear,
The first soundless sound, just a breath of air,
The first nameless dread whispered in my ear,
First doubts and forebodings encountered there.
Then voice becomes voices, a gallery
Gathers to measure my every flaw,
Free-forming an image to frighten me,
From failures, regrets, and injuries raw.
My nightmare self-portrait subsumes the voices --
Now seated, the conversation must start
At a table filled with endless bad choices,
All interconnected, each breaks my heart.
My spirit, sickened, refuses to choose.
I search through my image's lifeless eyes,
To find only myriad ways to lose.
Only then to finally realize...
I'm facing a mirror within my mind.
The whispering voices are memories,
Of failures, regrets, and acts unkind,
That unlock my fear with self-hidden keys.
With faith and a mere speck of fortitude,
I turn from the table and walk away;
From the fear-soaked darkness and solitude,
To walk in the light, where fear has no sway.
Now I stand here staring at that dark hole.
I smile at the sun shining on my face.
I shiver, once at a chill in my soul,
Remembering still that gloomy, dark place.
I shake off the cold and gathering rime,
Its lure and pull have been made to cease.
For choosing to live one day at a time,
God's daily gift lets me live on in peace.
Mick McKellar
May 2011