Making The Daily Choice

   I am at Day +27 (27 days since my actual transplant) and while I had a limited idea of what I was going to experience following this stem-cell transplant, I would like to attempt to quantify how I am doing.  Honestly, it's not that easy...I have no appetite, I have a severe lack of energy, I have no endurance, I have to wear a mask and gloves everywhere I go, I have to take frequent rests and naps, I am unable to do anything remotely resembling work or gardening or lawn care or playing in the woods, I am not allowed to go camping or backpacking, I have a difficult time maintaining my weight, I am unable to walk more than about 100 yards at a time, I am not allowed to drive, I have to take a bazillion meds each day, I am still having to shower while being conscious of the hoses that are surgically implanted in my chest, I still don't have any desire for coffee or beer, I am still wrestling with the status of C.A.B. ("chemically affected baldness"), I am not able to be with large groups of people, and I have to endure this list of maladies every single day...it just isn't easy.
   But really it's not that hard...through it all I have a wonderful wife who counts out my meds and drives me around and loves me even when I am ugly (and that ugliness can come out in ways other than how I look), I have a house and cheerful family, including an eleven-year-old daughter who thinks she might be an opera star, I have brothers and sisters and friends that show up to work in the garden and driveway, I have siblings that just show up and sit with me for a visit, I have friends who write me so many cards and texts and notes, I have people all over praying for me, I have a hope and a future and a Lord and a Savior and a lot of good people to remind me of all of that even if I am not feeling that closeness, I am ten minutes away from my doctors, I have everything I need...it's really not that hard.
   Each day -- each hour -- I have to choose.   I slip sometimes and wallow in self-pity or anxiety for moments here or there.  In those times I find there is more suffering and worry just waiting for me.  It would like to capture me and drag me down, like quicksand.  But instead, I need to consciously and consistently choose the "it's not that hard" option.  That is the option that provides solid ground and a sure foundation.  So really, after all of that, how am I doing?  Oh, it's not that hard.