Lee was stretched out on the bed, hooked up and breathing deeply when the stem cells were brought in, looking a lot like muddy blood. Lee asked if he could say hello to his new immune system. He held the bag to his chest and quietly said, "Thank you" as tears welled in his eyes. I handed him a Kleenex, then took one for myself and one for his Mom. It hit all of us at once: this was not just another day on this journey, this was the turning point, the Rubicon, zero hour. The nurses carried on, allowing us our moment. Then Lee handed them the bag, they hung it, connected it to him and let it flow. He closed his eyes, folded his hands across his chest and gave himself over to this amazing gift, rolling out the red carpet, as his oncologist put it, welcoming the life giving liquid into his body. Della and I stood silently watching, breathing with him. The two nurses, covered in blue gowns, blue gloves and yellow masks began their active monitoring, moving around each other and Lee in a very quiet, well choreographed dance of vigilance. Checking vitals, recording every number, checking again, talking softly. All the while, Lee lay peacefully, tears flowing occasionally. Within 30 minutes, 7 million stem cells had moved into their new home. The nurses kept up their gentle, rhythmic vigil for another 2 hours.
Then it was done. The world as we had known it for the past 4 months had changed. We were looking in a different direction and it was somehow even more surreal and unbelievable. It was scarier and more hopeful at the same time. Maybe that's the nature of miracles. Lee looked more at peace than I had ever seen him.
There is birth and there is death. Then there is the second chance offered up freely by a total stranger whose sole motivation was knowing that his life blood could become yours.
The only question remaining is, how do you top that?
xo,
C
p.s. Throughout the day, nurses would stop by and wish him a Happy Birthday.
Breathe, Breathe..so simple and so profound. I am breathing for you from here...sucking in the good and blowing the bad..LOL.
ReplyDeleteMay you be feeling peaceful and loved...both of you.
That is amazing. Life is amazing. You are amazing, Lee and Carol. Of course, I knew that from the moment I met you... but the way you navigated these terrible few months with humor and grace simply amazes me.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Charles
I was going to post this after the "feeling like poo" post, but I think we'll just tag it on here. Remember the end of Mozart's Magic Flute?--Tamino is escorted onto the scene by two men in armor. They announce the trial of fire and water, through which one is enlightened, so as to understand the mysteries of Isis and Osiris.
ReplyDeleteTamino readies to enter the trial of fire but stops upon hearing Pamina's voice. She enters the scene. The armored men allow Tamino and Pamina to embrace. The united pair resolves to undergo the trial together. Guided by the hand of love, and protected by the magic flute, Tamino and Pamina survive these final tests. A portal opens to the temple, revealing blindingly brilliant opulence. A chorus of priests revels in the couple's victory and invites them to enter the temple.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nfkb4SIZBG4&feature=related
Hello Lee and Carol,
ReplyDeleteAll of this is unbelievable. I am so proud of both of you -- for your courage, your steadiness, your love. I send all my good energy your direction. You rolled out the carpet and made space. Bravo.
Love you lots!
Bonnie
Hello Lee and Carol,
ReplyDeleteI can't even begin to tell you how I feel right now. So grateful to know you, and so happy to know that things seem to be working in the right direction. You stay in my heart all the time, Lee. I hope our paths cross again someday.
Much Love,