June 13, 2001: Round Three

Vol. 8.1

Hi Friends:

Just a few words of hello to let you know that I am, indeed, back in lovely Paoli Memorial Hospital for round #3 of chemotherapy. Checked in this morning at about 8:45, have already had my "mediport" accessed and a bunch of blood drawn, and within a few minutes will be hooked up to my very own special poison, which will drip into me for the next 96 hours--until Sunday morning.

The days since I last wrote have been frustrating ones. Not being able to go to Canada was deeply disappointing--I had worked closely with my good friends in Windsor to put together the "crusade" and seminars at which Tony spoke (and I was to speak), and I was very anxious to see it all evolve into life out of the goo of our ideas. But not going was the right decision. The doctor diagnosed me with a sinus infection, and throughout the weekend and even into the last few days I was battling its symptoms (and, of course, the side-effects of the antibiotics I was on)--quite weary, achy, and generally unwell. Going on that trip would have kicked the crap out of me, and perhaps even jeoparized this round of treatment.

(For the record, all accounts of the weekend are quite compelling and exciting. Many, many took seriously the challenge to give themselves in service to the least of their neighbors, and a lot of people came together to do something beyond their immediate self-interest.... If confessing faith means anything in these narcissitic, consumeristic days, it's got to mean that, right?)

The biggest frustration of the past week, however, focused on the Philly stop of the U2 "Elevation" tour. As many of you know, I'm a big fan of the band. Actually, I'm obsessive about them, and have been for 20 years. And, if I can blow my own horn, I was once called (by the editor of a major Christian publication) the "premiere interpreter of U2's music in the evangelical world." So, needless to say, I was excited when Jubilee 2000 asked EAPE if we would coordinate their table at the Philly shows.

(For those of you who don't know, Jubilee is the international campaign to forgive the unsupportable debt that most third world countries owe--thanks to the cold war--to Western governments and banks. Forgiveness of those debts, under the right conditions, would allow developing countries to take the money they are now paying in interest (in some cases, as much as 50% of their annual budgets) and redirect it into essential infrastructure and services that most of us in the West take forgranted--like clean water, healthy sewage/waste removal, roads, health care, etc. In certain African countries, where nearly 30% of the adult population has HIV, redirecting resources to address the pandemic there can literally save millions and millions of lives. Bono, U2's lead singer, has been a higly visible and effective spokesperson for the campaign, joining a diverse group that has included the Pope, Jessie Helms, Bob Geldoff, Radiohead, Sixpence, Billy Graham, my own Tony Campolo and scores of others in calling for debt forgiveness. The campaign's name, by the way, comes from the biblical book of Exodus and God's mandate to call a year of Jubilee every 50 years where all debts, regardless of their history or age, were forgiven and all slaves were set free.

Anyway, I was thrilled to be able to play a role at U2's shows for Jubilee, but realized that I wouldn't have the energy to lead the thing. Fortunately, my staff was more than able to take care of the details, and Sheri and I were pleased and prepared to play a simple supporting role of table tending and paper pushing.

Then I got sick, and not wanting to hurt the cause, arranged for our spots at the table to taken by someone not exhausted. This made me sad, obviously, but I was not without hope, as I thought without the pressure of having to work I still might be well enough to just go to the show and just enjoy the near-sacramental beauty of their performances. So, I asked Tony to put in a good word for me with Bono (he had supper with him on Monday night) and, lo and behold, on Tuesday afternoon I got a call from Jamie Drummond, the UK's leader of the Jubilee campaign, that a ticket and pass was waiting.

Fine and good, except on Tuesday afternoon I felt as badly as I've felt since this little bout of germ warfare started. I told Jamie that I'd need a ticket for Sheri, since I didn't trust myself to drive. He said he'd call me back, and he did, except not until 8pm. He was backstage with the band and wanted to let me know that they wanted us to come, see the show and say hello....

Sigh.

My heart was screaming with enthusiam. My inner adolescent fan was estatic, and my internal theological/critic was wide-eyed and thrilled at the chance to meet one of my few "cultural" heroes.

My head, however, was thinking about this morning, and the fact that I was about to be injected with 96 hours worth of poison, and I needed my strength. A late night would definitely set me back. A brief chat with Sheri--who nearly always sides with wisdom--sealed the deal. I went to bed at 9:20 last night.

Those of you who know me well know how I must feel this morning.

And so now i have another challege in this fight of mine. I must recover so that I don't have any U2 regrets. I have to get well so that, among other things, I can at last sit down and share a beverage with Bono.

Aside from my mouthful of regret, I feel as well this morning as I've felt in over a week. Perhaps another answer to prayer. It certainly will be to EAPE's board, who are waiting on me to finish the budget for the coming fiscal year. Perhaps I'll have the energy to actually get some work done this afternoon in the hospital.

During this round, the doctor will be running a bunch of tests to determine what the next steps in my treatment will be. They will decide how many more, if any, chemotherapy treatments I will do. They will also begin to plan for the next steps in this regimine, hopefully giving me some kind of an idea about if and when they will do the bone marrow transplant. (From what they have told me to date, only something really good or really bad will interrupt those plans.) That procedure will involve--in all probability--the harvesting of stem cells from my healthy parts and growing them into new marrow that will be readily not rejected. If that can't happen, then we'll look for a donor, my poor sister Sue being first in line. Having had a couple of bone marrow biopsy's in the past few months, I know that donation is not pretty. Still, if it comes to it, I will put out an all points buletin and let you know we're looking for a match. (For the "that's pretty interesting" file, the potential problem with donated marrow is not with my body rejecting transplanted stuff, but the marrow rejecting it's new host. Go figure, huh. And those of us who write can try and mine that for some sort of metaphor....)

I continue to be bouyed up by your thoughts, prayers, cards, notes, and gifts. I'm assembling quite a little baseball hat collection (still no Tigers, however... hint, hint), and may even try to grow my hair back. I shaved it to avoid watching it fall--which was way too depressing--but now the stubble seems to be relatively even, so i'm wondering if that part of things is over. We'll see what grows back--but these four days will be a good excuse to not shave.

Well, it looks like they're here to hook me up to the poison, which means I should let you go.

Please, continue to pray for sheri and me, and continue to join us in our crusade to make the voiceless and the weakest a part of our daily prayers--to let those without family and community and power become as dear to our hearts as they are to God's.

YOu are loved and treasured. Thanks.... Dwight

E-mail Dwight | Back to Cancer Journal Index Page