Peleton Charge

Yesterday was a hard day. Sue was in emotional turmoil and wanted me to spend the night at the hospital with her. I drove to David's apartment to get a shower, get some things, and then came back to the hospital.

Having been woken up repeatedly the night before by Sue's desperate calls for me to come and get her out of the hospital, and having gotten up at 4 a.m. to get down here to just be here for her and do what I could, I was tired. Well, o.k., nearly exhausted. I figured if I didn't get a good night's sleep I was a candidate for a cold, which would render me unfit to even come onto the floor at 11 Long, much less be a physical or emotional support for Sue.

The night started badly, with multiple interruptions from medical staff, housekeepers etc. Sue was also restless, nauseous, etc. and unable to sleep. I was trying without success to sleep on a conglomeration of two uncomfortable chairs. I figured I was doomed. I figured we were both doomed. I prayed for sleep and renewal and protection from sickness. Then, mercifully, peace came over the room and both Sue and I were able to sleep. I woke up at 6 a.m. refreshed and renewed.

Because of the preceding three days of nausea and diarrhea, the medical staff required that Sue's True Blue quilt be laundered again. I took the opportunity to do all of her laundry, and mine as well. While I was at David's apartment picking up my dirty laundry, I figured it would be well to get in a little jog. I wanted to put my hands on Hopper's Hands because I felt like I had figuratively been part of an effort to keep Sue from a suicidal "jump" from the hospital bridge while neutropenic.

The jog turned out to be a good idea. It was a beautiful sunny day in the City, with blue skies and sunshine covering the inner Bay and a low fog sneaking in under the Golden Gate Bridge, just under the famous orange suspended roadway, and then dissipating. As I jogged along the path above the beach at Crissy Field, this verse came to me: Isaiah 40:31 "... but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."

I did grow weary, though, jogging into the headwind blowing into the bay from the Pacific. It made me think of the Tour de France, and how the riders form a peleton to cut the wind and preserve their energy. The peleton riders do all the heavy work for the star riders, so that, at the end of the race, the stars have the energy to dash away to the finish and claim victory. I got choked up thinking about how all of you who have supported Sue through her previous chemo treatments and medical appointments and who have supported her physically and emotionally and spiritually to this point, and who continue to support her, have been my peleton. Now, like Lance Armstrong, I am ready to charge up the final hill and claim the victory.

Except it wasn't Lance Armstrong who claimed the victory in the recent Tour de France. It was his teammate, Alberto Contador, who won. And I am like all of you, just part of the peleton for Sue, cutting wind and preparing the way for her to claim the victory over this cancer. We're a mighty good team and I'm proud to be working with you.

P.S. This has been a much better day for Sue. I think she's turning the corner. Keep up the prayer work, peleton people!!!