Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Dear God,

Yesterday my doctor told me my calcium levels were perfect. "We are on the right road." He said. "You have had a hard six months but we're getting there." He was referring to my blood pressure and calcium problems. I didn't quite know how to respond.

Several months ago my health took a rapid decline. I felt profound weakness, such that it seemed a long way from my bed to the bathroom. I got so winded when I stood up and walked very far. I was sure I was going to die unless someone could figure out what was happening. I called several people, asking them to help me find an excellent internist, one doctor who would look at the whole of me and explore my situation to find some answers. I found him.

At first my doctor never smiled. He was very professional, a worry line forming on his brow each time I came for a visit. He described my situation as serious and kept a very close monitor on me. My spiking blood pressure would be near stroke level, a couple or three times already in the range. I was rushed to the hospital where doctors took great care with a slow intravenous injection to bring it down.

My calcium troubles stemmed from the "accidental" removal of my parathyroid. Trying to keep my calcium levels in the normal range is extremely difficult, my doctor told me. Sometimes it is too high, other times too low. When it moves beyond the normal limits, my heart doesn't like it. I can go into arrhythmia; worse yet, my heart can stop.

I've had so many blood tests in the last six months; I'm surprised I've got any blood left. But it's vitally important I be obsessive about my health, he told me. Regular checkups, blood levels monitored, taking medicine and a lot of it daily are all part of my normal routine now.

Today my doctor smiled.

There have been moments
when I feared,
dear God.
There are still some.
My cancer taught me
that life is fragile.
The human body
is an incredible machine;
but it has its limits.
The delicate balances
keep us alive.
Too far off
and you die.
I never feared eternity;
it was watching my body
disintegrate
and feeling
out of control.
I was thrust into your arms
each time I grew ill.
The meditation techniques
I learned through the years
worked to give me
calm,
a sense of serenity.
It always lead me to you.
I was never alone.
Those solo moments
when I realize
I am alone
in my dysfunctioning body,
I trust wholly in you.
I stand perfectly still,
then fall backward
into your arms.
You caught me every time.

Eternally grateful, Andrea