How it started; how it’s going

I have had the best intentions of posting a blog entry many times during the many months since my last post. Things kept getting in the way … well, who am I kidding: I kept letting things get in the way.

But now I find myself at a time in life when I suddenly and unexpectedly have a lot of time on my hands. Here is what’s been going on.

Day -10

(The numbering will make sense shortly, I promise.) I have a fever and don’t feel so great.

Days -8 through -6

I take Advil in the morning and gut through the workday, but I now have a dull, constant headache on top of an off-and-on fever. At night I can’t do anything except lie down.

Day -5

I go to urgent care in the morning. They do a chest X-ray and test for multiple diseases, but everything is clear. They tell me they don’t know what’s wrong but that they’ll try some antibiotics.

Day -4

I take a sick day from work. My wife convinces me to go ahead and schedule an appointment with my doctor, on the assumption that the antibiotics probably aren’t the answer. My wife is wise.

Day -2

I start developing pain in an area where men don’t want to have pain.

Day -1

I go to the doctor’s office first thing. They do some other tests but seem equally mystified. They will try a different, stronger antibiotic, and they do some basic blood tests and schedule a follow-up appointment in a few days.

I go back home, turn on my laptop, and get to work.

About three hours after the blood draw, my doctor calls me and asks if my wife can be on the phone, too. Huh. That doesn’t sound good.

I get my wife and put the doctor on speaker. The doctor’s message is direct: I have your blood test results. I think you have leukemia, and you need to go to the ER immediately.

Um, sure, Doc, whatever you say.

An hour later, I am at the ER. I stay there for nine hours. I am tested for many things. The hospital doesn’t have access to my blood test results (I guess because it’s not part of the same company as my doctor’s office), but thankfully I can pull the results up on my phone and show them to the doctors. I am admitted to the hospital.

Day 0

Things are pretty much a blur, but the doctors are sure I have leukemia. They do a bone marrow biopsy so they can find out what kind.

Day 1

(And this is where the numbering starts to make sense.) The doctors have the results on the general type of leukemia I have but are waiting on more details because it comes in several sub-types. They start me on a 7-day regimen of chemotherapy – that’s why this is Day 1. I am hooked up to an IV 24 hours a day for the next 7 days, which is not so great.

Day 4

The pain that men don’t like to have has gone away. It was miserable. I am thankful.

Day 8

The doctors learned my sub-type a few days ago, and I start a 14-day regimen of chemotherapy aimed at this specific sub-type.  This chemo involves taking pills twice a day, and I get unhooked from the IV. Freedom is good.

Day 21

It’s my last day of the second round of chemo. The side effects have been relatively minimal, but my hair is disappearing at a rapid rate.

Day 24

My wife brings in some clippers and gives my sparsely-populated head a much-needed trim. What is left of my hair looks much better.

Day 26

Another quiet day. At this point, I am in waiting mode — waiting for some of my blood numbers to increase so the doctors can do another biopsy to assess how the chemo worked and to figure out what’s next.

But I’m not writing this to be a medical diary.

My original purpose in starting this blog was to share my thoughts as I walk through this life with God. I am not a theologian, but I wanted to write things that would hopefully encourage other Christians and maybe pique the interest of some non-Christians, too.

So as I sit and wait in the hospital, I am pondering some things about the past few weeks.

First, I have felt – and continue to feel – very secure in God’s loving hands. To state what may be obvious: I am praying for full and complete healing (and I know many others are as well, which I’ll address later). I do not find myself asking “Why me?” or thinking that this is so unfair. I think I have written before about how it’s a very good thing that we don’t get what we deserve, given that we all fall short of God’s glory. This disease is something that happens to lots of people, and in this instance, it’s happening to me. There really isn’t anything more to it. I walk around my unit, and I see patient rooms with signs like “hot zone”, “no visitors”, or “protective equipment required”, or even a room with correctional officers stationed by it … meanwhile, I can go down to the lobby and pick up some Starbucks if I feel like it. “Woe is me” is not the right posture here.

Second, I have been stunned by the number of people who have reached out to my family and me with offers of assistance, actual assistance, and words of prayer, hope, and encouragement. I have heard from people who I haven’t been in touch with in years – cards, emails, texts, phone calls, gifts … so many kind gestures. I am grateful for all of it, especially the help for my family, as this has been incredibly hard on them. I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that there are hundreds of people praying for me – that is a very powerful thought and also very humbling. I think my wife already mentioned this in another social media post, but at times I feel a bit like George Bailey at the end of “It’s a Wonderful Life”; the level of support has been overwhelming.

And third, I find myself feeling thankful. I am thankful that God hears our prayers and answers them (even if it may not be exactly how we want him to answer them). I am thankful that God has given us the intelligence and skills to continue to advance medical science, so that someone in my position can receive types of care that didn’t even exist until recently. I am thankful for the people at my hospital who come in and out of my room every day, determined to take care of me the best they can. I am thankful for the peace that comes with being a son of God – that no matter what, he has me.

I have received many praise songs, Bible passages, and other readings from fellow Christians. In so many instances, it was something I needed to hear right at that moment. I don’t think that’s a coincidence. My wife liked this one and hung it up in my hospital room:

Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.” The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.       -- Lamentations 3:21-26 (NIV)

My heart is full of hope, and I am waiting quietly.

(Note: I’m not sure how many of these posts I will do in the coming weeks and months. How I feel can change quite a bit from day to day, and I get tired pretty easily. I wrote this post in pieces over the course of a couple of weeks. I value every single prayer offered on behalf of my family and me. Thank you so, so much.)