The Take Down

At 5:00 a.m., April 30, the nurse comes into Room 7212 and injects a lethal dose of Fludarabine and Busulfan into the access of my Hickman line. (Not to worry. The night before, a nurse provided me with Dilantin load dose to avoid seizures.) The lethal dose of chemo over the course of four days will destroy my body's capacity to make blood. My immune system is being wiped out. There may still be a shred of fight left in my body to attack (host versus graft disease) the bone marrow transplantation from my sister but without the donor this is assisted suicide.

The nurse didn't talk. She locked, loaded, pulled the trigger and left the room. What else can you expect at 5:00 a.m. I expected something. I needed something. I opened the United Methodist Hymnal and turned to page 362. I never liked the hymn titled "Nothing but the Blood." The hymn sounded too bodily for every day life but it suited my occasion just fine. When my blood is destroyed, it is comforting to know what the blood of Jesus is about. I sang loud and lustily.

"What can wash away my sin? Nothing but the blood of Jesus. What can make me whole again? Nothing but the blood of Jesus. O precious is the flow that makes me bright as snow; no other fount I know; nothing but the blood of Jesus.

For my pardon this I see: nothing but the blood of Jesus. For my cleansing this my pea: nothing but the blood of Jesus. O precious is the flow that makes me brighter as snow; for my cleansing this my plea, nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Nothing can for sin atone; nothing but the blood of Jesus. Naught of good that I have done; nothing but the blood of Jesus. O precious is the flow that makes me brighter as snow; no other fount I know, nothing but the blood of Jesus.

This is all my hope and peace; nothing but the blood of Jesus. This is all my righteousness; nothing but the blood of Jesus. O precious is the flow that makes me bright as snow; no other fount I know, nothing but the blood of Jesus." -- Robert Lowry 1876