A Short Update and a big Conundrum

As you know, June and July had some crappy news for us, and we’ve begun a new treatment last week. As part of that process, we needed a “base level” for my counts, so did the bloodwork and 24 Hour Urine once more. Yesterday afternoon Dr. Hoessly called with the results of those tests, and my counts are indeed through the roof.

For the sake of perspective, in April they were the lowest ever, at 0.18.

In June they were 3.06 and 3.43. Last week they were 11 and change.

Basically, I’m back to almost where we started the drug trial last Fall.

What’s most odd, however, is how my body has been “aware” of the changes. I’ve been feeling the changes in my energy—feeling my body turn inward, so to speak, to fight. I haven’t had much of an appetite, but I’ve lost about 10 lbs in 10 days up until the weekend, and on Sunday my bones just started hurting again—sort of announcing that they won’t be ignored any longer. My ball and socket hip joint just decided on Sunday: “nope, you’ll be staying up all night with me” and my spine just said “I won’t be bad, but I’m here….”

Ah, what is it that John Mayer said to all those teenagers on TRL?

I remember: “my body is a wonderland.”

What? He didn’t mean that?

Oh well.

Yesterday I had lunch with Tony Campolo, and before critiquing Clinton's DNC Missionary Revival speech ("Send me!") we spent the first 20 minutes or so talking about Kierkegaard’s “Fear and Trembling.” God bless him, Tony goes right to it, and without any conversational foreplay we go straight to talk about how I might die and how this may be an opportunity for me to use my writing gifts to help other people to die.

“People need you,” he says. They need these ideas, this example. He then assured me that I don’t need to die myself for this to happen, and that there’s no reason to not expect one breakthrough after another in this disease.

I love Tony.

Then he also promised to help us find some good southern hospitality if we end up going to Arkansas for another opinion this fall.

A sickness unto death, but no need to die….

I love my friends, I love my family, I love my wife, and I love that even as we say something like “I believe that God has his hand on you” we also are acknowledging just how crazy, how insane, how mixed-up, how maddenly nonsensical this world is. We trust God and even love God and know that he sustains and keeps and nurtures and strengthens us, and yet see that God seems to do most of his property management at arm’s length.

No answers.

Just unwilling to pretend, for the sake of piety or alleged godliness or a speaking date or two that it’s not a total, complete and utter conundrum.

Meanwhile, however, here’s what isn’t, in any way, a conundrum to us:

That we love you and are grateful for all that you are in our lives.

It means the world.

I told someone yesterday in a brief and completely incomprehensible note celebrating their 40th birthday that besides these three things in life, nothing else matters. Twenty Four hours later I’m sure that it’s true, so I’ll call it my creed and end here.

1. RIGHT NOW. What are we doing that matters and with whom?

2. A hand that’s worth holding. Find it, don’t let go.

3. “Let him who has two give to him who has none.” The essence of all things good, gracious and what it means to repent. If we can’t get here, we’re pretty much screwed. Let’s start praying.

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