Tuesday, May 24, 2005
. . .As long as He lendeth me breath.
Being visited by the man known as "-g" our humble blog host, (and his wonderful companions) always ends too soon, we just barely get going and, well . . .you know how those kind of friends make you wish for eternal Heaven right now.
As mentioned below, I was an overworked Cobbler by trade, had some severe back pain, bedrest didn't help, checked into the hospital hoping for cortizone shots and some pills and get back to work, spent eight days in critical care where they saved my kidneys from calcium poisoning, and was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma aka: bone marrow cancer. Prognosis: 1-2 years unless I get a bone marrow transplant, then 5,10 or even more years of remission.
So, at age 45 I have the privelege of joining those with terminal cancer, treatable but not curable, as an outpatient at the chemotherapy clinic.
These are now my people, we go in for our chemo, we all have a companion to drive us, and stay for the 2-5 hours it may take. The nurses here are different, they know that without the chemo, we die from our various cancers real soon. They put the needles in us painlessly. They have unlimited soft drinks, with perfect crushed ice, lotsa crackers, really nice big reclining chairs for us. There are always clergymen talking to the patients, Rabbi's, Priests, all kinds of Pastors. It's a busy place.
But I'm the new one, the young one. I still make jokes and kinda over do it, it's quite obvious I've only been going for about 5 weeks. My new people have been coming here for years. They are frail, weak looking, wearing the easiest clothes, the easiest shoes. They all have that worn out face, those wiped out eyes, that faded countenance.
Yet these are the mightiest warriors on the planet. They fight, and fight year after year against the inevitable. They sacrifice all that they were, all their resources. They battle against an enemy within. Each day is a victory, sometimes each breath is a victory. The longer they fight the less they have to fight with. Yet they don't give up.
I feel unworthy with my new people, I'm untested as a warrior, I really haven't suffered much yet, I'm sort of whiner about my discomfort, I'm not a very good patient, I get testy. I hope I can learn from these warriors just by being near them, just watching their faces and praying for them.
I'll check back with useful observations -- (Ps. 18:1)
- posted by greg @ 8:34 PM | | 0 rocks in pond
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