Detour

After a long wait in the chemo chair yesterday, the blood counts came back from the lab, and the doctor didn't like them. The white cell count had dropped so low that he decided to postpone chemo for a week, giving my bone marrow time to "do its thing." A week seems a short time to make such big repairs, so please pray with us that it will happen. I've gotten in the habit of living an almost normal life, so we had big plans for a reunion with my siblings, their spouses, and a cousin in August. I know this is selfish, but I'm also praying that this detour doesn't mess up the calendar.

Since I couldn't get chemo, I went to the office, but I soon discovered that I was pretty useless. It felt like sheer fatigue; my brain refused to engage. It occurred to me that I might be more depressed or discouraged than tired, but I couldn't shake it off, so after a couple of hours I went home. After a short nap, Karin and her kids were back from their excursion, and we enjoyed the next hours together--Scrabble, pizza, and a humorous movie. This morning I feel better, and we plan to go to Discovery Place to see Body World.

Why depressed? The reality is that I've sailed through 35 courses of chemo without a hitch. That's the surprising thing, not that this time we hit a bump. Everyone hits bumps. I heard about a woman whose children have all died but one, and that one is dying, all of cancer. The grandchildren appear to also have the cancer gene. And the woman's husband couldn't handle the stress and bailed out. One wonders how she even gets out of bed in the morning! Surely she needs our prayers.

My chronological Bible has me in the Proverbs and Psalms just now. "Let everything that has breath praise the Lord," it says. I do have breath, and I do praise the Lord. He is good, and He is right.

Blessings,
Carol