Counts are... sideways with an uptick!

Just got back from Emory where they drew more blood and ran some tests. The white count is now 2.0, up from 1.7.

The upward direction is good news, but they are still low enough to watch a bit more closely. I will get word from the doctor on Monday regarding how he wants to approach things.

I am grateful for so much. I am saying that mostly to remind myself of this. How easy it is to be at '80%', and focus on all the things you're missing out on within that last remaining 20%. Why can't I focus on all the amazing improvements captured in that 80% and just let the 20% come when it will? I'll try to do so.

My wife is soooooo beautiful. I am a lucky man.

Counts are down...

My bloodwork this week revealed that my white blood cells, i.e. my immune system, is low. In fact, it's unfortunately in the 'critical' range (1.7 vs. 4.0 the last time I was tested). This isn't a good thing, especially since they were trending upward since chemo ended.

They suspect I have a virus of some sort, but are going to see if my body can fend for itself.

I am scheduled to go back in for more testing next Friday.

Getting this news, coincident with Richard dying, has left me a little numb. But I strive to lean even harder on the peace that is present, abundant, and available to all of us through the overwhelming love and tender care from God Himself.

A loss.

My friend Richard died today.

He and I met while we were getting the chemo at the same time from the same doctor for the same cancer at the same hospital. He and I shared stories... both good and bad... that only someone going through the same circumstance could appreciate. He and I are the same age, as well.

I was actually across the street at Emory getting blood work today when he died. His father called me right after he died and told me that Richard had been doing well, but all of the sudden, the cancer took over and consumed his bloodstream. It only took a couple of days for the wheels to fall completely off the situation.

While I knew all along that this cancer could and can kill me, it had not really hit home until today, right now. There is something impossible to explain about all of this. It's like going down in a plane crash, whereby one person lives and the person sitting in the seat right next to them doesn't make it. I really can't make sense of it.

On Day 99 of my blog (April 6), Richard left a very kind comment that I will cherish for years. His screen name is "BlackGTO" in case you care to go read it

He wrote, "Maybe at some time in the future we'll be in at the same time, and I'll be able to stop in and say hello, or walk a lap or two with you. Without your knowing it, you and your wife's faith have helped me beyond words, my friend."

I felt honored when he wrote this. Now that I see the wake of his death, I am even more honored to have met him and shared this part of our lives together.

Here are some photos of Richard. One right when his hair started to fall out, and the other showing off his brain port scar. God bless Richard's family. I take comfort in knowing that Richard loved the Lord and is in His arms this very moment.

Beach!