I was telling my surgeon, Dr. Whitcomb, that my new middle name is something like... “On rare occasions....”   She laughed and told me about Rara Avis.   I guess it is latin for rare bird.   Well, I like it, and it seems to fit!   Every time someone says to me that something could happen on a rare occasion, I know it’s going to happen to me.   Like the herceptin reaction that only happens on rare occasions.   And now, my groshong catheter is turning me once again into Rara Avis.   

The told me that on “rare occasions” the body can form a sheath around the catheter as it floats in my blood stream.   That happens only rarely, and usually after the groshong has been in place for a while.   With me, it only took a week.  

From the outside, the lovely clear tube protruding from my chest looks a bit sci-fi, but otherwise harmless.   On the inside, it swims in the largest blood passageway just outside my heart, so that when they attach it to the chemo drip, it is quickly diluted by my blood flow.   It also is an easy way to pull out blood for the draws I am needing to track my health.  

But it seems that my body saw that groshong as a foreign body, which it is, and started about building a sheath around it in self defense.   Gratefully, the chemo is still able to get in, the fluid pushes past the sheath and can distribute into the blood.   But when the nurses draw back the syringe to try to take blood from the line, the suction pulls the sheath against the opening, sealing it shut.   End result is LOTS of hassle, more pricks, and the risk of the sheath closing entirely.  

That is a danger because then the chemo wouldn’t make it into my blood.   It would back up the sheath, out of the vessel, and spill into the tissue of my chest.     That would be a BIG bummer.   So, I am instructed to be very attentive if I ever feel anything when that chemo is dripping in.   If it leaks into the chest, it will destroy tissue, and we’ll be in trouble.          

It surely makes me feel nervous about chemo time!   I am asking the Lord to break that sheath down, to let my body just dissolve it away from the opening so that it would start drawing blood again.    Would you pray for that with me?   I know that it isn’t impossible for the Lord!   

I do feel like it is weighing on me... concern about what will happen each time I have chemo.   Then I’m concerned about my hand, it’s swollen and sore on the side of my sentinel node biopsy.   Dr. Whitcomb measured my arm to see if it was swelling as well, a sign of lymphedema, and it doesn’t seem to be.   Still, looking at my swollen hand all day makes me nervous, and I’m not a very nervous sort of person!   Then there are my white blood cells that dipped low, and are rising slowly but surely.   Still, I can’t go out in public without a mask, and I’m supposed to be avoiding public places.   So many stores and I can’t even go shopping!     Today, I had a rather painful procedure to place metal markers around the tumor so we can see the size and if it is shrinking.

So all these things add to the weight that seems to be settling around me over the last few days, the sort of weight that makes you want to cry when you climb into bed at night, even though you’re not sure why.   Don’t get me wrong, there is a lot of joy in my life too, I’m surrounded by it!   But the flavor is tinged enough to have become decidedly DARK chocolate.   You know, that bittersweet, “why would anyone want to eat this” sort of flavor. :)   I don’t like dark, give me the easy sweetness of milk chocolate any time!   

Tonight, I read a little more to the children out of “Hind’s Feet on High Places.”   I found it in a children’s version, and we have been reading it at bedtime.   If you’re not familiar with it, it is the beautiful allegory of a girl named Much-Afraid.   She is crippled and unloved, but the Shepherd (the picture of Christ in this story) invites her to the high places.   It’s a journey out of the Valley of Humiliation in to the Kindom of Love at the top of the distant mountains.   He promises that if she will make the journey, that He will make her feet like Hind’s feet, able to leap on the mountains that once had stood in her way.  

So she begins her journey, and tonight we read the chapter that made me want to share it with the children in the first place.   At the foot of the mountain Much-Afraid meets the companions that Shepherd has chosen for her, the ones that He knows can best lead her to the heights.   They are strong and foreboding, and their names are Sorrow and Suffering.  

With tears, Much-Afraid begs the Shepherd for Joy and Peace to lead her up the mountains!  But He asks if she truly trusts Him, and if she will take the hands of those He has chosen as her best companions in the way.   She does trust Him, and achingly begins the journey with Sorrow and Suffering.   At first she stumbles on in her own strength, loathing to take their hands.   But then, as the way grows steeper, she must reach out and embrace her companions.   Their touch is painful to her, but she also finds that places that seemed impossible are suddenly behind her as they lift her higher.

I think that I am in the place of needing to humbly reach out and embrace these companions of mine on this path in my life.   I too wish they could be Joy and Peace, but it seems that my Shepherd has seen fit to let Sorrow and Suffering journey with me just now.     It’s one thing to walk along together, and an entirely different matter to reach out and take their hands.  

But I do trust my Shepherd, and I believe that these companions come with great purpose.   So, as I know so many of you are praying, will you pray that I will have a courageous heart, and that I will not miss the lessons He is wanting me to learn here?   I am determined, by His grace, to take their hands.

It may sound kind of noble, but I know how much-afraid my heart can be at times!   I know the end of the book, however, and how well it all turns out.   And I also know that to reach the beautiful ending, you have to read the chapters in between that are full of difficulty.   In life, you can’t just flip to the last chapter.   So, tonight, I’m peering through the fog, the last chapters aren’t yet in sight, and I’m holding on to the hands of my companions and teachers, trusting the One who sent them.