I admit that last week I started thinking about those extra platelets. An extra 60,000 platelets is a great cushion, I thought, especially after losing 38,000 the first cycle. Yeah, right. I usually get in trouble when I think I know what will happen.
My platelet count yesterday? 106,000—and there went the comfortable cushion. The C-125 marker was down to a lovely 130, but those platelets…argh! There’s nothing to eat or try or take, except to give them time to rebound after being beaten down by chemotherapy.
Yesterday, however, I didn’t go back into the dark and deep hole of the weeks between Thanksgiving and January 13. I purposely didn’t think about anything that was out of my control.
Instead I thought about Mark 8 and about being in the boat with one loaf of bread, 11 people close to me, and the Savior. I focused on seeing, hearing, remembering, and understanding the important truth—I am in the boat with the Savior, and He is enough. He is not limited by the one available loaf of bread or the plummeting platelet count or anything else. What a remarkable feeling! I felt that I had passed one little test on one little day and nothing bigger than that, but it was a victory nonetheless.
If you’ve seen me recently, you probably have thought that I look so much better than you expected. For the most part, I do feel better. My neuropathy is greatly diminished, and I’m getting around easily. Other than general queasiness, I’m doing okay. Who would expect that persistent cancer tumors inside have grown and spread and not responded very well to treatment?
Don’t we all have junk inside that can’t be seen? Whether in our hearts or minds or bodies, hidden things exist that we don’t know about and/or don’t want others to see. My situation may be more obvious, but then I have hashed and rehashed the story of my insides over the last 23 months. I have trouble forgetting that what’s inside cannot be seen in the mirror. What I realize today a bit more clearly is that my inside is not important.
What’s important is the One who is in charge of all of my life. I’ll need the reminder in a day or so, but today I know I can reread Mark 8 and be thankful that I look better than I feel and better than my inside may look. Scans on February 7 (results on February 10) will reveal details about what’s inside, and the oncology experts will recommend what to do next. It’s not up to me.
In the meantime, I want to focus on what’s important—on God’s mercy and grace, on not having to deserve His being in the boat with me. Nothing at all is up to me.
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.” (Lamentations 3:21-24)