Day 33: Flickering Flame

It's been rough. I can't lie, I can't pretend otherwise. I was really hoping for a light-hearted post about now, with lovely pictures of the girls next to Ian smiling his wonderful smile full of hope and faith. But that is not an accurate picture of where he is at right now...

It's been a rough road these past few weeks. We were expecting him to be gaining strength and getting back to his old self in no time, like he did after his first round of chemo, but this is a whole new ballgame. It is much more complicated and severe. This is no game. It is a roller coaster with twists and turns night and day, every day, and very few restful stretches that allow us to just relax and enjoy the scenery.

I miss my Ian.  I feel like he hasn't really been back since his counts shot up after the transplant. He has been lost in a haze of medications, pain, low energy, discomfort, and nausea.  He is unable to connect deeply or communicate much most of the time. That pulsing fire of life and hope and faith that was fighting the good fight has faded to a faint glow, a flickering flame. He just hasn't been himself.

Tomorrow is another clinic day. We may have more answers, or maybe just more questions. Yesterday they found his platelets even lower than ever and gave him two transfusions.  He had a reaction to the last one and had to sit in the ER waiting room for hours until he felt stable enough to make the ride home. He and Uriah didn't get back until almost midnight, and I didn't sleep much that night even after hearing they made it home safely. It's hard not to worry, especially when there are so many questions with so few answers and my husband's life hangs in the balance. I know God holds the scale and calls the shots. I know He already has all the knowledge that the doctors are poking around for. I know these current shadows and shades of grey are an essential part of something beautiful in the making. I know we are being carried even when it feels like we're falling... but I still struggle with that storm in my stomach.

As for current details, he still has rashes, mysterious pain and bloating in his abdomen, and fevers that come and go. His CT scan isn't scheduled until next Monday, my birthday, so he is slugging along in the pain and discomfort trying to make self-observations and guesswork about what might be the issue. Just walking the stairs is difficult for him. It seems like he is getting weaker instead of stronger.  They say it is probably too early for GVHD to present itself, which makes me even more nervous knowing that this could be the "calm" before the real storms hit. It is all a bit overwhelming.

And so I'm writing to share our situation and to ask for prayer. Please pray for Ian, that his spark of life and hope and faith will become a flame again. Please pray strength for him to fight this fight.  Please pray for a smooth road ahead - that the rashes and mystery pains and fevers would subside, that his blood counts would stabilize, and that his energy levels would increase.  Please pray wisdom and divine guidance for his medical team.  Please pray for Uriah as he carries the bulk of responsibility for Ian's care.  Please pray for me to take refuge in my Lord and lay all these burdens at his feet.  And if you don't mind, please let us know you are thinking about us and praying.  Comment, text, email, call... Ian especially is feeling lonely and needing some extra love right now.

Thank you!