How I Spent My Summer Vacation

Day 26 post transplant. White blood cells in slow but steady climb. 1.27 today. And, I'm at the point where I'm wondering how to be steward of the 100 days required in Seattle. Twenty-six of those days are past. The calendar of days hanging on the wall shows every one of these days to 100. "Why don't you x-out the days that are past?" a nurse inquires. "Because I don't want to negate any of these precious days," I reply. Seventy-four days to go before I get a pass outside Seattle city limits. The requirement for transplant is spend 100 days in Seattle post transplant with a care provider. I have a shepherd for the duration. During these days, my blood is drawn and tested. I receive medications to do my infection fighting for me until I have an immune system that begins to work. How shall I spend my summer vacation besides the medic rounds?

I've been wondering how to take up my pallet and walk. This morning, I considered that my project (one of my projects) is to write a devotion for every day. In my older age as a cancer survivor, I do not trust big plans or words but perhaps writing a daily devotion is doable. The only good writer in me is the writer who documents and tells the truth of what is happening. What is real is so much better than anything that can ever be made up. I like being curious enough and quiet enough to notice. I don't know if I can do this but if the Julie/Julia Project could happen for a woman who admired and followed the recipes of a great cook, I expect that my devotion can be written as a woman who loves and seeks to follow in the footsteps of the creator.

I am setting small goals -- get up, take a shower, eat, walk, and write a devotion.

This reminds me of when I was paddling to Cape Horn. Near the conclusion of the 21,000 journey, I was wind bound for days and decided that instead of fighting where I was, I would embrace my predicament with the sure belief that somewhere in the perfect time of being exactly where I was, God is speaking. If only I could listen. I became convinced that God would open the path past the pinned-down-by-wind on the beach position when I had received the gift and learned the lesson offered for the day. Remember the sentence from Kubrick's 2001? "Open the pod bay doors Hal." Hear my mantra for today. "Open ears and heart Val. Turn over the rocks of this place where you find yourself and thoroughly enjoy what God reveals in such a time as this."