There I stood in the corner of a white brick room. I could feel the cold steel of the hospital bed pressing lightly against my thighs. My husband clasped my sweaty shaking hand.
Until that moment, I hadn’t thought about what I would experience, only what he would. The pain he would feel. The fears that he had. Suddenly, the reality of witnessing a bone marrow biopsy washed over me.
A medical instrument would be used to remove a small sample of my husband’s hip bone. Another tool would suction a specified amount of the fluid from inside of his bone. I had read that the pain he would experience was comparable to that of child birth.
The room suddenly got much warmer, and much smaller. I looked down at our clasped hands knowing that I couldn’t leave him, and praying, that if I passed out I wouldn’t hit my head on anything hard.
“We’re all done,” the doctor said, filling my husband, and my hand, with relief.
It wasn’t as bad as any of us feared. Though my husband did say the pain was intense, he had feared that it would be worse. My mother-in-law, whom obviously has a much higher tolerance of such things than I, watched the entire procedure done on her one and only son. And, I didn’t pass out, so that was good.
Afterwords I was filled with an amount of relief I hadn’t expected. Since we first received the diagnoses of my husband possibly having CML, a type of Leukemia, I have been filled with worry, stress, fear. I’ve experienced thoughts and fears that less than a week ago I would have never imagined. I wasn’t so much worried about the biopsy itself though. I was worried about the pain my husband would experience, but I knew that it was something he would just have to do and all I could do is be there for him. It was the results of that biopsy that truly worried me. My mind has been filled with the worst of possibilities. Suddenly though, as we left the hospital that day, I was filled with hope. I was filled with all the best of possibilities, for there is still a real possibility that my husband does not have CML at all.
Today we will know for sure what battle we have been called to face. I hope for the best possible results, but what I truly pray for is that no matter what words come out of the doctors mouth today that we are all able to accept that it is God’s will and have the strength within us to carry out our parts in the plan that He already has written for each and every one of us.
“Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” ~Psalm 139:16 (NIV)