good news

Tonight my nurse at MD Anderson called with good news. They got permission from the drug company for me to take prednisone (steroids) with the chemo. My form of leukemia responds well to steroids. They are a short term fix. So they should make the chemo much more tolerable this round. I restarted the chemo tonight. Pray that this round is smoother than last.

I also built a coffee table tonight. Yeah, that's right...i actually made a functioning piece of furniture. These steroids give me WAY too much energy. In the past few weeks, I have read three books, painted two paintings, built the coffee table...not sure what the next project is.

I'm hip hop in flip flops...

Heard that in a Jason Mraz song on the way to work today. Classes are underway. Things are running smoothly.

My doctor is currently trying to convince a drug study to make an exception for me and allow me to take medication to calm my symptoms while I try their chemo. That would make things much easier for me. Pray that that happens. Other than that, my health situation has been pretty uneventful for the last week...and this, my friends, is a very good thing.

back to school

Had meetings in the math department this morning. Classes start back Wednesday. It's good to be back with some responsibilty and something to do besides go to the doctor.

Several of you got my letter today. You all have been and continue to be such an amazing part of my life. God has truly placed some amazing people in my life.

Had a funny episode today. Some things will never change. The AC in my office at UT had leaked all over my desk made of particle board, causing one side to swell 2 feet higher than the other. So I had to empty out the desk and move it out, discovering a mouse. I told the dept. that I don't ask for much, but would like AC and a rodent-free office.

getting back home

For my last trip and a half to Houston, I have been able to fly with Angel Flight, a ministry providing air transport to medical patients. It is private pilots who volunteer their time and equipment.

It is an interesting height that single engine planes fly, around 7,000-8,000 feet. It is close enough to the ground so that it still looks like the world you know, with houses, streets, farms, feilds, etc. But it is high enough that the world looks infinite. So huge that towns look like toy sets. It's just such an amazing thing to look at for three or so hours. It's the same feeling as looking at the gigantic ocean, but rather multiplied so many times.

Flew back yesterday, and heading to Knoxville in a couple hours. I have stayed at my apartment less than 5 nights since June.

today

Well...saw the doctor today. There are a few more options for treatment for me...all investigational. Since they are investigational, I have to wait until the study opens for them. Also I have to have been off the last chemo for a month and have no steroids in my system (they gave me a burst of steroids to help me after my last episode). So I come back in a month to decide which route to take. In that month, I have to taper off the steroids and clean my system of the last chemo. This could be a rough time, because once I am off the steroids, I will be receiving no treatment for my disease for a short time. Back to Bama in the morning and Knoxville Sunday.

made it to houston

Well, I'm in Houston. Flew in the smallest plane I have ever seen to Vicksburg, Mississippi. Then the guy at the tiny airport loaned us his El Camino to go find one of the three restaraunts in town for lunch. After a couple of hours, flew to Conroe, TX. Saw lightning from above...pretty awesome. But we made it. Long day tomorrow.

thoughts

Well this story just took a sharp turn. This blog or whatever you call it. I went from discussing outrageous stories that you wouldn't believe if you haven't spent more than a day with me to deep life-defining thoughts. It is so cliche, but at moments like these, you know what really matters.

A large part of my life has been centered around what I know. Since I can remember I have enjoyed learning and teaching. It's what I do. In the classroom, while tutoring, with younglife kids, with my family, with my friends...I have the answers and I share them. That has been the major crisis of the past few years. I don't have the answers. I have questions that get replaced with more questions. And while it has appeared for a long time that I am content with this uncertainty, it is now that I can honestly say that I am satisfied, even proud that this is bigger than me.

I don't know why I was chosen for this. I don't know if this will end any time soon. I don't know what God is doing. I don't know what I should do next. I don't know what I should be doing with my career. I don't know if I should bring a girl into this mess. I don't know what will happen tomorrow. I don't know if I will throw up tonight.

But, as the reluctant mathematician that I am, let me count the things I know.
1. I am being watched.
2. His strength is made perfect in and only in weakness.
3. I am loved, by God, yes, as promised, but also by many wonderful people.
4. God meant me.

Clarity

Clarity is a cruel thing. Clarity doesn't exist unless it's opposite also exists. We wouldn't call somehting clear if it were never unclear. So to have clarity, by definition you must first have something unrecognizeable. That's what I have...standing all around me, behind me and before me. If I look around it's all I can see: a huge mass of unknown, a random variable, a "bug", a problem, an indescribeabl obstacle. With a lack of clarity, comes my biggest foe, uncertainty.
I am totally uncertain about whether or not I can live tomorrow without the help of IV meds. I am uncertain about how fast this disease is destroying my body and how much of this is reversible if we can ever get it to stop. I don't know if I'll ever be a grandfather, a father, a husband. I cannot make an probable statement about many things in my life.
This is a problem. I teach math. There is always, no matter how hard to find, THE best answer among the choices. I have wanted to fix this...solve this...find the theorem...find the right way...find my x=____. But it's not there and it's not promised to ever be there.

BUT...
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,Let this blest assurance control,That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!My sin, not in part but the whole,Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

When I look down...oh, when I look down, i don't see the mass that is there to smother me...I see the arms of my Christ holding me so tight, crying way more than I do, and He is in pain. Visible pain. His beloved hurts and He hurts. And with all His might and power, He is doing what is needed first and foremost in this situation, holding and comforting me and those who love me. He is running through the uncertainties with perfect clarity and shielding me through the journey. All I can see now is his arms, a view I have reluctantly fallen in love with.

There's your clarity...there's your certainty. I have no less clarity, certainty, or control over my life than someone who isn't battling cancer. Here comes my pride, but I think I have more clarity than them.

This has been quite a journey so far. I am tired, scarred, and bruised, but carried and protected.

The answers...i still want the answers...but i don't have them and may not ever... they are withheld for a reason...a reason i don't know, but a reason i must trust.

I am competely spent...any effort I make at this point would be a measly static blip on God's plan which he is accomplishing through me. He has totally taken over. I finally yielded control...not very willingly. But he's carrying me, and I love the view of the race at this height with His perfect stride.