Great Unknowing

Today, while having coffee with friends, the phone rang. “Dr. M wants to see you at 9.00 tomorrow morning.” Unexpected, yet not. In March, a routine blood panel had come back with a low blood count across the board. My GP waited a month and then ran another test. The numbers hadn't moved.

My GP checked off on her fingers: iron levels good, so not anaemic; B-12 good; kidneys OK (not sure of their relevance). “It looks like a bone marrow issue.” She looked hard at me. And referred me to a hematologist.

Waiting and wondering is always tough. We have been here before with a thyroid cancer scare. It's an odd feeling – in limbo – knowing that be tomorrow I could be soaking in a bath, relaxed with relief. Or stunned and trying to adapt.

Being me, I wrote it as it is always my way of clarifying and coping. These are my unedited diary notes:

Thinking about it makes it worse, more definite. Yet not thinking feels risky, slipshod as if worrying in itself is a protection.

When I got up this morning and dragged my back out of bed, finding a positive spin to the day seemed irrelevant. Life was larger than petty decisions. The canvas I am about to draw on may well turn out to be so big, that today's small choices are irrelevant. Determinedly not thinking belittles the gift of life.

Suddenly, clarity: what matters is not where the path leads; it is how each step is trod.

The bigger viewpoint – up and away till I am so small in the greatness of creation. The only thing that makes sense is the HOW of living – wherever it takes me. I hope that will be enough.

And so the next day, we sat with Dr. M., a friendly Brit, which caused an immediate connection. In my physical exam, all was good. He looked thoughtful.

“Leukaemia?” I asked, hearing the word drop into the silence.

“Could be. It's on the list but way down. You would be feeling ill by now.”

He ordered a slew of tests and asked me to come back in two weeks. Our two younger kids would be staying then. We only see them once a year as we live in Ontario and our daughter and family live in England; our son on Vancouver Island. So that week is special and I wanted it sunlit, not filled with foreboding and discussion.

There was no hurry, he assured me, so we made an appointment for the end of June. “If I see anything worrying, I will call you.” And he has.

Notes from my journal:

Not sure what it means, but felt very still and that it would be OK. When I asked God for guidance, I just got a calm “no need.”

The only important thing is to handle this with courage and grace.

Why? We are all part of a greater grace.

Tomorrow at 9.00.


About UntraveledRoads

Fascinated by life, looking for answers to chronic pain and finding unexpected gifts. Interested in people, ideas, healing and humour. I am very happily married with three children and a kitten. As English born immigrants to Canada, we have family spread overseas, a daughter in South Africa and one in England. We also run a charity in South Africa to educate black, rural South African Women. Our first girl from a rural township has just graduated as an accountant from Johannesburg University and got a good job in a bank.
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One Response to Great Unknowing

  1. ME says:


I really value your comments and particularly where something resonates with your experience.

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