It is almost 1:00 a.m. and I sit in this darkened hospital room with a thankful heart.

It has been a long day. Steve has not felt well all week, but when I woke up this morning, I found him at the kitchen table with his head between his knees. He was short of breath, extremely fatigued and light-headed. After a short conversation with his oncologist, we got into the car and headed south. Yup, we were on the way to the hospital…again. After being on the road for about an hour and a half we arrived at the hospital at around 10:30 a.m. After a million questions to which the answers had to be repeated, much poking and prodding, blood cultures, CT scans, urine samples and conversations between doctors, they made the decision to admit Steve to the hospital about an hour later.

You know, this cancer “thing” is no walk in the park and is not for the weak at heart! His blood counts were dangerously low and he has an infection “somewhere” so he was given four (or five…who’s counting) different antibiotics throughout the afternoon and into the late evening. Two units of blood and plasma, five different oral medications and an insulin shot were added to the ever-lengthening list.

It is no wonder that my sweet, ever-strong, wise and calm-as-a-cucumber husband began to feel completely overwhelmed and filled with an anxiety that he couldn’t shake. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it or not, but my precious husband is not a great talker when it comes to things that really weigh on his heart but tonight he at least voiced that he was anxious, that this shouldn’t be happening, that he was overwhelmed and disappointed that he had to be admitted to the hospital.

Those feelings had so taken over his mind that he couldn’t sleep. So I did the only thing I knew to do. I rubbed his arm and assured him that there was nothing to be anxious about, that I was “here” and I was “not going anywhere”. More importantly, I reminded him that God was here in the room with him as was his guardian angel and the prayers of many of our friends were being said on his behalf.

It was then that he took a deep breath, closed his eyes and slept. Not for too long as we ARE in a hospital and no one EVER rests in one of those, but he is sleeping soundly in larger chunks of time.

And his fever finally broke.

When the morning sun breaches the horizon we will still be here in this hospital room. But, we are thankful that the antibiotics are doing their job, that his fever has broken, his strength is already returning and his eyes are brighter than they were earlier in the day.

So, I sit here in this darkened room, listening to him breathe (and snore), and I am thankful.

I am thankful that my mom was able to come sit with Steve as I ran back to our house, packed a bag, and dropped the dogs off at the kennel!

I am thankful for the nurses, doctors, technicians, cooks and housekeepers that keep this hospital running like a top as they care for my sweetie.

I am thankful to our God who is Peace and Love and who carries us in the palm of His hands in our darkest hours.

I am thankful for another day with my best friend.

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