Predictable Unpredictability
I’m writing this post in the backwash of some disappointment. I was supposed to have received my third infusion of chemo/immunotherapy yesterday morning. I didn’t.
Let me explain.
The typical routine on chemo days starts with a thick needle being inserted into the port on my chest. A syringe is attached to this needle through which they can draw blood and infuse the drugs. Once this is done, they draw blood and have it tested in their on-site lab.
While we wait for the results, we have a consultation with the doctor. After this check-in, we wait for the lab work to be finalized and the doctors’ orders to be sent so the chemo/immunotherapy infusion can begin.
Yesterday’s appointment got off to a normal start: blood draw and meeting with Dr. Nattam. My consultation went well. While I had lost 2 more pounds and had some new side effects to report, I was pleased to say that overall, the side effects have been mild, and I feel pretty good. My appetite is good and I’ve had no pain in swallowing.
Then Gwen and I went back to the waiting room, expecting to be called in for my chemo treatment. However, several minutes later, here came Dr. Nattam walking toward us across the waiting room. Gwen said, “Uh-oh. This doesn’t look good.”
The doctor had a grimace on his face as he told us that my white blood cell count was too low for me to receive my treatment that day. He explained that while the chemo attacks the fast-growing, destructive cancer cells, it can also attack some fast-growing, healthy cells, specifically white blood cells – those that fight infection. So, he needed to push pause on the treatment to give those white blood cells a chance to increase. We’ll go back next Tuesday (Aug. 26) to try again.
While he informed us that such a thing was pretty common, I couldn’t help but feel a bit bummed. It’s not that I necessarily looked forward to the five hours of infusion or the side effects that would come my way.
Rather, it seemed that we had some good momentum going, and even, perhaps, some progress was being made. My concern was that with this delay, we might lose some ground in getting a handle on the disease.
Trust for the Twists and Turns
Then, on the drive home, the thought came to me, “This journey is going to be filled with twists and turns. It’s going to be unpredictable, predictably so. Expect that and don’t let the surprises throw you.”
The more I contemplated this, the more I recognized that this truth goes well beyond my cancer. The fact is that, for all of us, all of life is predictably unpredictable.
In his New Testament letter, James speaks directly to this: “Now listen, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.’ Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow…Instead, you ought to say, ‘If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that.'” (James 4:13-15)
I think James is offering some wise counsel here. If disappointment is a function of unmet expectations, peace is the result of resting in God’s sovereignty.
While we may not be able to chart out our plans with 100% accuracy, we can be confident in the plans of a loving Father with 100% certainty. A biblical text that has served me well for many years seems to speak to this.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to him,
and he will make your paths straight.
Proverbs 3:5-6
I’m going to try to act on these words throughout this week of waiting for my next treatment. Moreover, I’m going to try to apply them beyond my next treatment. Perhaps you might as well.
PRAYER REQUESTS
Here’s how you can pray for us in the coming days:
PRAY that Dave’s white blood cell count goes up before next Tuesday (Aug. 26).
PRAY that this delay will not negatively impact his progress in treatment.
PRAY for protection against infection during this time, when his WBC is low.
PRAY for total healing.