“Light chains”…….normal

Even those who know me best probably have no idea at all that the type of myeloma I went through treatment for was light chain myeloma.  Yes, there are different types of myeloma, many different types (from the little that I understand about it).  And no, the irony (spiritually that is) of “light chain” myeloma has never escaped me.  At times I really do marvel at the profundity of all of this–in the very description of the disease there is a good versus evil image.  Many of those who define themselves as Christians have no doubt found their stories peppered with the paradox of “light” and “chains.”  Just listen to some of the old hymns, like Charles Wesley’s (1739) And Can It Be That I Should Gain; “I woke, the dungeon flamed with light; my chains fell off, my heart was free, I rose, went forth, and followed thee.”

Something else most don’t know is that, after every single check up, I have to wait several days for the light chain results.  And because of how the myeloma I was treated for “behaved,” this result appears to be the most telling one.  Well, from my blood draw on Friday at UNC, I got the results today, and they were “normal.”   And “thankful” is simply not a strong enough word for how I feel right now (and neither is “relieved”).  With the busyness of life, I can sort of forget that I’m actually waiting for test results; in fact, I make a concerted effort to stay busier than usual when I am waiting as this helps me to forget that I’m waiting.  But, the second that I realize the results are in, I feel a little something in my stomach (like a jump) and I hold my breath for just a few seconds.  And yes, I am really disappointed in myself that these things do still occur. I feel quite sure that in “coming clean” about this I’m disappointing those around me who seem to admire my faith; but the only thing truly worthy of admiration anyway is the actual object of my faith.

Now, I find myself exhausted from the emotional/psychological (and whatever else) toil of the past few days.  I really wish that I didn’t make it so hard on myself.  It’s really not hard, logistically that is, to show up in Chapel Hill and have some blood taken out of my arm and wait to see my doctor for the results.  There’s a lot about doing all of this that I actually enjoy (like seeing all of the pleasant faces at UNC).  My hospital is a most special place.  I’ve been to several and I’ve seen firsthand that there is indeed something special about the culture of UNC.  They do everything they can to make whatever “it” is easier on their patients, on this patient.  Yet, I inevitably find a way to make it very hard on myself.

There are some days though, some joyful days, that I find myself able to believe with every fiber in my being that I will never, ever be critically ill from cancer again.  And sometimes I even feel like the people there at my beloved hospital, those who saw me at my sickest, actually look at me like they too might just have found a way to believe that they’ll never, ever again see me ill either.  And that’s one sweet look!    Any chains that have ever bound me feel awfully light tonight, thanks to that most lovely object of my faith in whose eyes I know I will never, ever be sick again as he sees me now (and always will) just as he does his Son.