Whiplash

That's what it feels like. Tammi had a bad week. They couldn't get her cell counts up high enough for her to safely take chemo. So she went a whole week without it. She didn't feel great (imagine your body trying very hard to reproduce it's own good cells, and not being able to...it's exhausting). And Mother's Day was coming. All of us kids were coming home and she didn't want to feel bad while we were there.

But there it was. A bad week.

Hannah and Hallie stayed to go to the doc with her on Monday, to check her cell counts once again. After an ungodly wait, we learned the counts were up. But still, a nurse told us to come back the next day, that the doctor wanted to speak with us before giving chemo again.

In hindsight, I'm not sure what we were worried about (I mean, there are plenty of things to worry about, and worrying is what Dye ladies do best). Tammi worried that this was going to be the day they told her they'd have to back off the chemo, that her body wasn't taking it well enough. Hallie and Hannah worried that they'd seen something in her blood during a tizzy the nurses went into the week prior. Maybe an infection of some kind that would snag the whole treatment.

But as we met with the doctor that Tuesday morning, she looked at our eager faces awkwardly and simply said, "Everything looks great! Let's get some chemo!"

And we were silent. Staring at her. Wondering if we had heard right. 

Im summation, the doctor said, shit happens. Sometimes there will be a bad week. Sometimes blood will look funny under the microscope. Sometimes you'll just feel like crap. And oftentimes, during these sometimes, everything will be just fine.

Chemo was had. Lunch was enjoyed. Another sigh of relief was breathed. 

When the doctor doesn't know why shit happens, we do. And we are grateful for the prayers of ya'll that get Tammi through bad weeks.