Today I read in John 20, when Thomas says “Unless I see the nail marks….” I found myself identifying with him, his doubts about the reality of recent experiences. (Though, unlike Thomas who had run away from the crisis, I had not had that opportunity; probably would have given the choice….)

And Jesus, in response encourages him (and me) to “stop doubting and believe.” Believe in my on-going healing; believe in the reality of Christ-among-us.

Yesterday, hiking up a path here in the Great Smoky Mts where we’ve taken a short vacation after attending the wedding of a dear friend in VA, I found myself quickly becoming breathless. The natural tendency is to feel anger at this “carcass” that won’t perform; I have to remind myself that the latest blood panel still showed low counts in all categories (not unusual) including hemoglobin, which shuttles oxygen from lungs to muscles and brain.

“My Lord and my God!” Thomas awe-fully asserts. And I, today, as I climb the side of the mountain toward Rainbow Falls surrounded by the glory of creation (while panting for breath), will join the prayers of the doubting Thomases throughout history: “My Lord and my God!” Amen.

Sleeping in my own bed, not being awoken at all hours of the night to gather “vitals,” being able to control the temperature of the room….

Cooking breakfast, creating and cooking our common supper (with fresh asparagus!), leisurely dining in our dining room….

Brewing a fresh pot of tea in the morning, being warmly greeted by the furry felines, sitting in the sunny driveway participating in the morning’s Wow of birds and smells and breezes….

Meeting Creator/Redeemer/Sustainer in prayer in my little “closet” with kneeler and candle and Risen-Christ crucifix, and receiving the word for the day: “Abide in my love” (Jn 15) and from Is. 66: 1-2: When I (the Lord) have created all things, what kind of house could you possibly build for me to live in? Well, I’ll tell you: Be content to be a “lowly and afflicted” person who trembles at, and is responsive to, my word.

Therefore, I (and we by our common access to Creator) have been enabled to be God’s house/temple/abode, from which abiding in love is possible.

Some of the many joys of being home….. Amen.

Knotted, fragile, frayed

Your gifts knew – and stayed:

Seek and run another Race.

. . . on to Glory!

And so I’ve come to the end of another leg of the journey, as the Head Doctor of the BMTU (Bone Marrow Transplant Unit) said to me this morning: “Your white counts are coming up well.” (They were at .8 today, .4 yesterday and .2 the previous.) “They’ll probably double again by tomorrow…. Do you want to go home tomorrow?”

Is the Pope Catholic?

So, unless something totally unforeseen happens between now and then, we’ll be on the road to SB in the afternoon.

The only thing that needs to happen (medically) is the removal of the line into my venus heartus. And I’m out-of-here! It’s been a long 3 weeks; I’m ready. ‘Nough said. Amen.

]]> http://oldmannew.wordpress.com/2008/04/20/on-to-glory/feed/ 2 oldmannew http://oldmannew.wordpress.com/2008/04/18/a-simple-report/ http://oldmannew.wordpress.com/2008/04/18/a-simple-report/#comments Fri, 18 Apr 2008 18:52:53 +0000 oldmannew http://oldmannew.wordpress.com/?p=38 ]]> At 2:00am Scott was feeling hot and had a temperature of about 100 degrees. At about 3:00am he was very cold and his temperature went up to 100.4. The nurse took some cultures and started him on antibiotics. At 4:30am the doctor came in to see him. The doctor said that even though he may or may not need antibiotics, they decided to take precautions since his blood counts are so low.

At about 8:00am the day staff greeted Scott with much celebration. They explained that the fever is an indication that his stem cells are beginning to engraft. So, the nurses told him that the fever process is likely to happen again tonight. The good news is: they are predicting that his white count should be higher tomorrow. His platelets have already begun to rise. We just need to pray that his fever doesn’t become too high.

By the way, did any of you shake, rattle and roll while the earthquake was doing its thing? I was sleeping but woke up when my bed began to shake. I wondered if I was dreaming or if we were having an earthquake. Still half asleep, I wondered if there might be some kind of an alarm. I thought about getting up but where would I go? Scott said his hospital bed shook, too. However, all is well here in Indianapolis. I hope all of you are safe also.

Until about two years ago, Scott’s idea of exercise was reading a good book and getting into an intellectual discussion about life. While he regarded physical exercise as a “waste of time,” he never was a couch potato; he has always been a real outdoorsman who loves to hike, camp and cross-country ski. He has such amazing stamina that the first time he took me skiing, I thought we were actually going to ski across the country.

For Scott, these activities are never for the purpose of mere exercise, but rather, to explore and to discover his own “wonders of the world.” When Scott is outdoors, he feels more lively, (dare I use the word “vital?”), closer to God. So, it is very interesting, to say the least, that Scott has been consistent with his exercise program even in his hospital room. However, knowing Scott’s faithfulness to health, I am not surprised.

Scott’s idea of health does not stop at the physical. He firmly believes that one must also be healthy spiritually. He continues to read the Bible and to pray daily. He has gotten into some good conversations with those who are caring for him. In 1 Corinthians 9:24, Paul exhorts us to “Run in such a way as to get the prize.” I believe that Scott will get that prize.

Sometimes I think I’m reduced to an ever-changing, (and thank God “normal”) set of numbers around here…. Pulse, blood pressure, O2 count, temperature (oral), blood counts (white, red and yellow). (As though this set of quantifiable data defines me.)

Of course, for a medical team whose mission is to keep me alive and thriving, these truly are VITAL statistics; not knowing them (at 4 hour intervals) would seriously hinder timely intervention should I need it.

But (philosophizing on the inside) this isn’t what is truly Vital about me! Memories and dreams, critical thinkings and artsy-fartsy ramblings, playing with language and provoking students and loving my spouse: this is what defines me! This is important! This is vital!!!

Then I remember: it was only today that one of the doctors lit up as we discussed the classical guitar: his love for the instrument and the passion as he described a recent concert alerted me to something–I wasn’t a numerical vital sign.

The nurse today, not even assigned to me, who stopped in and visited several times, and helped me understand the physiological progression of events happening inside my bone marrow.

Truth is, everyone here–doctors, nurses, staff, therapists, and the dear ladies who volunteer to bring me the Eucharistic Bread–they have each and all acknowledged the vitality essential to this very human-thriving-gift-of-Creator of self and in the others around me. And I’m exceedingly grateful!

May I be regularly reminded to seek, know and love the truth of each person with whom I interact.

More importantly, may I allow them to penetrate me and leave a mark of blessing upon me. Amen.

Ah, yes, there they are, like ancient Greek columns of virtue, the well-worn definitions of “patience.” What sense can we make of them? A couple of things come to mind:

1. You know, I really could have it much worse, re: patience. If the head-honcho-doctor showed up in my doorway tomorrow with the announcement: “You’re making perfectly fine progress! While I am not recommending it, if you wanted to go home today I would not prevent you. But I caution you to be aware of distinct possibilities, such as infections and other serious complications…. Promise me you will monitor vital signs every 4 hours for the next couple of weeks (etc., etc.).”
How many of you would reply (as I’d be strongly tempted to do): “See you later, doc. I’m outta here!”???
While it’s true that I might be fine fending for myself in the wilds of northern Indiana, it would be an act of impatience to abort the program, take matters (of which I’m woefully ignorant) into my own hands, and leave this safe, but exasperatingly boring 12X15 room.

2. The “virtues” function differently from the “gifts” we consumerist-christians have become so fond of. If you have been “gifted,” you are enabled to practice (or spend) your gift immediately. It’s in the nature of the gift. But virtues must be acquired or earned, frequently through prolonged and serious challenges, which is merely another way of thinking of “suffering.” “Seek discipline and find your liberty” is an apropos quote from my March 22 post on Freedom. Think of it like this: I could gift you with a car, but you will definitely have to EARN your BSN!

Enough said. You know the analogies to sports and the arts; patience (suffering) during years of practice develops skills; skills enable success. Some 2000 years ago, Paul used the analogy: Run the race well that you might secure an eternal crown.

Oh, God, I’m running; it’s just so hard on a stationary bicycle…. Amen.

I have tried very hard to be strong and not worry about Scott’s health, but I have to admit that at times I feel fear gripping me. It sometimes clasps its powerful hand around my throat causing my heart to pound and my muscles to tighten. As I try to squirm away from this monster, I can feel the little purple birthstone slide across my neck. It’s as though God is trying to get my attention, “Hey, stop it! Calm down. I know you’re hurting, but trust in me.”

Psalm 139:1-4 states:
O Lord, you have searched me and You know me.
You know when I sit, and when I rise; You perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down;You are familiar with all my ways.
Before a word is on my tongue You know it completely, O Lord.

God knows our thoughts and emotions and really does care about our feelings. I am learning to trust Him more but I still battle anxiety. However, I felt a great sense of peace wash over me on April 10th after Scott’s stem cells were put back into his body. It’s the same peace that I felt about a month ago when several of us prayed for his healing. This peace was from God. I confess it’s not something that I am capable of “mustering up.” Scott felt the peace also. I said to him, “You have a new birthstone now for the month of April. It’s a diamond. He just smiled and closed his eyes. His white, fluffy pillows cradled his head like clouds. He was drifting off to dreamland while trusting God to heal his body.

My mother’s favorite scripture is Jesus’ promise to us in John 14:27:
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives.
Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

While I am learning more about trusting God, I also wish all of you the peace of Christ.

Do’hi (peace in Cherokee), Carolynn

1. Keep firmly in mind that the various systems in the hospital have “Service” as highest motivating factor-never forget, you are their reason for existence. Despite being awoken and having vitals checked/labs drawn at 9p, 12a, 3a, 6a-to say nothing of the various demands placed on you from a variety of specialists during the day (it doesn’t even surprise me any more to have at least half-a-dozen doctors/nurse practitioners/nurses, etc. peering downing my maw with a big, yellow, Ray-o-Vac flashlight, and asking me to take deep breaths and listening for “bowel signs.” (By the way, is this just a euphemism for flatulence?!?!?)

2. In between these interruptions you will have hours in which to decide whether to try to eat anything (nothing looks good, and tastes even worse the 2nd time); to lie on the bed watching the second hand pass round the clock; to try to find something on TV that won’t rot your mind; to attempt to read something, knowing that it doesn’t stick and you lose interest; or to don mask, booties, gown and gloves to walk down a very short hallway where nothing is happening and your ward-mates are all hunkered down in their rooms trying to figure out how to pass their time.

3. Some of my solutions toward sanity: get up, straighten up the room and request Atavan (for nausea) and a cup of coffee before 7:30. Order breakfast (something light and a 2nd coffee) while getting my “altar” ready in front of the window where I can have an extended quiet time. Very impt: be as friendly and caring and loving as possible to everyone-they reciprocate wonderfully! And be yourself: both humor and sincerity are appreciated. Be sure to follow all the little rules: toothbrushing and rinsing, wearing masks, being attentive. Have a plan for the day of a few little things you wish to accomplish: (exercise 30 minutes-that’s been high on my agenda); rest when tired even if you don’t nap; choose the music you would like to listen to that day; if therapy (like art or music are offered), request a session-I’ve had both now and they were terrific! After your visitors leave, be sure you take plenty of time to relax and prepare for another wonderful night’s sleep.

4. Though I can speak least about this, I think I’ve been attempting to reduce the chunks of time to stay busy from my usual 3-4 hours, to a mere 20-30 minutes. This has reduced frustration.

Thanks for listening; we serve a God who is never content with discrete or divided portions of our being; God is jealous to gain allegiance to your whole mind, body, spirit. This is a noble, tough, and worthy calling.

This is Carolynn giving you an update on Scott. I’m in his room with “The Hallelujah Chorus” from Handel’s Messiah playing in the background. It’s very appropriate for today: he received his stem cells back into his body this morning. It was a very moving experience. I arrived at 9:20. A few minutes later a woman came in and served us communion. Next, the lab team and two nurses came in and prepared him for the procedure as Mozart’s “Requiem” filled the room. Tears began to flow, not from pain but from the tremendous awe of what was happening. The old man is gone, the new man is emerging. As I watched the red blood flow through the two tubes into the port next to his heart, I thought of Jesus’ blood intermingling with his own. Scott was receiving life. The scripture, “by His stripes, we are healed,” came to my mind as I stood and watched with amazement the scene before me.

However, the gift of life is not without suffering. Very soon Scott began vomiting, which the nurse said is quite normal. As soon as the transplant was finished (it lasted about 15 or 20 minutes) the nausea left. He took a nap for about an hour before announcing, “I’m feeling pretty darn good. I think I’ll do about 30 minutes on the bike, then take a shower.” He has a stationary bike in his room that he’s been using faithfully every day.

It is now about 4:00pm. He ate a bowl of soup and is sleeping. Rest is very important now. RESToration is taking place.