Its the Monday before infusion, and I am hustling through as many tasks as I can complete. I manage to strip the sheets off the bed and dig out the winter comforter. While stacks and piles of odds and ends abound everywhere, if the bed is made, somehow all is right in my world.
Its weird to me, that I can accept how the dust accumulates, and the clutter surrounds, but if I can tackle one thing and make a little order out of it, I barely notice the rest.
So I wake up Tuesday, ready to keep hustling on my way to infusion.
But somehow, everything is off kilter this day and oh boy- its going to be one of those days! First I check the calendar and realize it's not this infusion day that I see Dr. Panwalkar, but the next one.
Soon, Rick announces he forgot to tell me he needs to leave early for a meeting. I guess I'll be driving today? Hadn't planned on that. And Nolan needs a ride to school from the rink, but its after the time I'll need to leave… my mind starts racing.
As I scurry about, Colton announces he needs help with his STEM homework. We muddle our way through tackling the invention of the ballpoint pen- and chronicling the invention all the way through the ages. Half an hour marches by… and Nolan needs… but then the dog barks...
I see a glimpse of yellow outside, and gasp as I hear the bus coming. I literally shove the little man out the door. I need to leave, NOW!
But what was that thing I needed to do? It floods over me as I recall- I haven't put the numbing cream on my port!! It needs an hour to fully work. I'm officially running late. And today? I've scheduled my blood work to be done through my port.
I grab the keys to the van, and thinking I'll just bypass the newly restored astro start key fob- thing-a-ma-bob, I merely insert the key to unlock the door and open it… then bam!
I set off the blaring security alarm! Oh boy… how do I shut this off? I get in and start clicking buttons, and low and behold, it goes off. Until I try to start the car.
As time ticks, I hurriedly try to figure out the right combination to shut off the alarm again.
But each time I get it silenced, the very next move I make, turns the blaring right on again.
I am getting so frustrated… my mind whirls with everything that has gone wrong. Why did Rick schedule a meeting on a chemo day? Why didn't I know about Nolan's meeting he needed to get to? How on earth did Colton not do his homework? Why can I not make order out of this day?
It was so easy to blame everything on everybody. I angrily worked my way through finding the keys for the truck. It was almost 9 and I had a 15-20 minute drive.
As I turned down the side street, hoping to fly along the back roads with less traffic, I once again realize I never helped Nolan. I'm near tears now, feeling like I've let him down. And yet- he hasn't called me.
So I just start to breathe… in and out, sending a quick prayer up, to help me so I can ignore everything else and focus on driving this big truck…
And as I do…
I slow long enough to listen to those last words… "help me ignore everything else so I can focus…"
Because, who is really in charge?
Not my dear Superman. Not the kids and their crazy schedules. Not me…
HE is in control. HE has this. Oh boy… how do I get so caught up in what was never under my control anyway?
So I keep breathing in clarity, and breathing out nonsense… and slowly, calm descends.
I apologize for being late, to my infusion nurse, Livia, and she merely smiles. "Oh, it gave me some time to just sit and chat a bit." Don't worry, it happens to us all.
Suddenly with a deep peacefulness, I sit earnestly as gratitude tumbles out onto my journal.
Names, blessings, observations of kindness, feelings of joy, physical gifts, today- the gift of yet, one more day.
Livia comes in to ask how I get the results of my tumor markers?
I tell her I haven't for awhile. And I haven't bothered to ask for them. Last I heard they were rising.
Later, at home, my phone buzzes with a message from Sanford's MyChart system.
I'm astonished- Livia must have conveyed to Dr. Panwalkar that I didn't know the status of my tumor marker so he ordered the results to be sent to me.
The last I had seen- they were at 41.1 (normal is 31 or less).
Yesterday? They were at 34.3.
What? How? I will still have to wait for more of an explanation… but I'll just savor the idea it went down.
I smile as I think to count one last gift for the day… a lower tumor maker. Clearly this day, someone else was in control, all along.