August 28, 2023 - First Day

     Words could never express what I felt on Sunday when we were showered with so much love.  Folks came from as far away as South Carolina.  I was more than stunned.  It is a marvelous thing to be loved.
     There is lots going on.  Sorry for the long chapter.
     It was a rather non-eventful trip for Karl Smith and me to Rochester.  I didn’t know until we were on the way here that yesterday was two months to the day of Pam’s passing.   I guess now I know why the Lord nudged me to ask Karl.  It’s a very open wound for him and will be for some time.
     I can’t describe the feeling that I had as we turned off the Interstate and headed into Rochester.  It was very much déjà vu.  I felt the same as I felt 22 years ago when I came here for the sarcoma in my leg.  It was the same feeling in 2012 when I came for the abdominal tumor that was removed.
       It was a similar feeling when I came in February for the radiation.
    It’s a tri-fold feeling.  There is much trepidation.  There is a feeling of uncertainty.  And at the same time there is a feeling of hope.
      I don’t know if hope can exist with fear and uncertainty.  My mind says, “No, they can’t.”  But my heart says that is what I am feeling.  Amid struggling over the pain that I know is coming and the uncertainty of how all this will turn out, there is a sense of hope.
      I am not talking about the sweet peace of our Lord.   Hope and peace are two different feelings.  The peace of Jesus is a constant in my heart.  Hope, however, is different.  I have hope that God is working in my body and in my heart.  And in the hearts of others.
      Let’s start with some good news.  I met with the radiation oncologist this morning.  The prostate cancer seems to be under control.  My PSA is well within the range for which he was hoping.  I will be tested every six months.  If the PSA stays within its present range, I will not see him again for three years.
      The next appointment was with a nurse whom I am calling “the vein nurse.”  She shared some information about the stem cell transplant.  But her main job today was to determine if my veins could tolerate as many as five days of an IV in both arms at the same time.  
      It didn’t take her but a few minutes to be able to feel the scar tissue.  I have had lots of IVs over the years.  If the doctor agrees, it looks like I will have a port inserted on Friday.   Once the port is in place there will be no more sticks to draw blood, etc.  It will remain in place until the day they release me.
      The blessing of the day came when I met with a lady whose job was to convince me to be a part of two research studies.  I had previously agreed to being part of one myeloma study.  I consented to being included in two additional research studies.   Willing folks in the past had done that and I am reaping the benefits.  With all that is going on in my body, hopefully someone in the future will benefit.
      She then asked me, “How are you doing?”   It was more than the “How are you today?”
      I said to her, “Really, I am just fine.  I have no choice but to deal with it.  I pastor a church, as well.”
      She then said, “Then you have lots of prayer warriors praying for you.”   I had no doubt at that point that she was a believer.
      With a lump in my throat I shared with her about the prayer support that I have received, especially from children.  The goose bumps popped out on her arm as I was sharing with her.
      She then shares with me about a man in her church who is facing a stem cell transplant in the not-so-distant future.  The staff at Mayo is scheduling his treatments later in the day because he is such a lift to others.  They say that he is a great way to end the day.  For what it is worth, most of my appointments are at the beginning or middle of the day!
      The kicker.  He is only 38.   I am 68.   I have lived a blessed life.   This young believer is not even to the prime of his life.  My request would be that the extended Daybreak prayer warriors would pray for him.
      The worst part of today was the final appointment, a kidney function test.  To test the kidneys a significant amount of fluid must pass through them.  At my age a significant amount is more than my body can handle.
      For two and a half grueling hours I endured one of the worst things any man wants to experience.  And to boot, there was an injection and blood was drawn twice.  Though the test is over, it appears that the discomfort is going to last well into the evening.
      I then headed back to the parking garage which was on the far end of the main Mayo campus.
      In the opening moments of this fourth round, I had mostly felt body blows.  They hurt but didn’t stagger me.
      As I trekked back to the car, I must admit that I was feeling a bit sorry for myself.  I was focused on me instead of the One who is strong in my weakness.  An unexpected punch came from nowhere.  I was knocked to the canvas.
      As I am feeling sorry for myself this young girl bounces in front of me.  She couldn’t have been much older than 30.  She is full of life as she greets others.  I had been walking with my head down, looking at the marble tiles until I saw her.
      She was bouncing because she was on crutches.  She was on crutches because she has only one leg.  Her head was a slick as I expect mine to be in a couple of weeks.   It was obvious that she is in a much more significant battle than I am in.
      She was a picture of life and hope.  I don’t think anyone who saw me would have said that about me.
      All that I could pray was, “Oh my, Lord.  Please forgive me.”
      I got up from the proverbial canvas and stagged the rest of the way to the parking garage, trying to greet others with some sense of life and hope. 
      One of the blessings of Mayo Clinic is that people like me come here because we believe the medical staff here is better equipped to handle unusual medical conditions, like three simultaneous cancers.
      But one of the by-products of coming here is that you see so many people who are in far worse shape than you are.
      Lord, even when life is very difficult, help me to keep my eyes on You and not on my circumstances.  Those circumstances could be much worse.
      Folks, don’t be sorry for me.  Please don’t send me an email or a text about my grueling day.   Rather, pray for a young girl who has a much more difficult row to hoe than I have.  She will be dealing with that difficulty for the rest of her life.