Authored by Justin Yuen on Jan 30th 2011, 21:04
To be discharged directly from the ICU is an unusual occurrence. For a week, I had been in too good a condition to be there, but with no beds available on the leukemia floor, there I stayed, waiting. My blood counts gradually rose. The available bed count did not. Without reason for remaining in the ICU, and no bed, it was time for me to go home. I was released from my unwieldy tether of tubes and wires, free to walk as far as I pleased in any direction, free to rediscover the world outside the hospital.
Through the window of the taxi, everything was strangely new to me. The vast expanse of snow-covered trees and benches in Central Park contrasted so greatly with the crowded landscape of IV poles and stretchers to which I had become accustomed. I saw fashionable coats and boots in place of hospital gowns and non-slip socks, heard car horns and chatting couples rather than the beeps of medical devices and the subdued discussions of doctors. It seemed at first that the hospital had become my home and my home had become a foreign place. Upon revisiting the hospital two days later for a follow-up appointment, I found that it wasn't just the outside world that had changed. The hospital with which I had become acquainted was seen from a wheelchair, stretcher, or hunched over the handle of an IV pole. Time and distances seemed unbearably long. Elevators crawled, and hallways were endless. But on this visit, I walked upright, wearing outdoor clothes and shoes. The elevator was just a short distance from the building entrance, the ride up to the fourth floor was brief. Along the way, I saw the tops of people's heads rather than undersides of chins. I was no longer an inhabitant of this place, but a visitor passing through. There were other former in-patients seated in the clinic lobby whom I recognized from the leukemia floor on which I had stayed. They had also exchanged their hospital gowns for winter coats and scarves, wholly indistinguishable as cancer patients, and would soon leave the building to blend in with the rest of the people walking the streets outside. It is rarely evident on the surface all that a person has gone through in life. The scars on my body have all become hidden from view beneath layers of winter clothes. I have lived a healthy life, experienced the deterioration and weakness that old age brings, been near death. Now, I feel reborn, gaining strength, relearning how to walk, to eat, to be independent. The newness of the world around me is a great thing. I have been given a second life, a second chance to readily absorb my surroundings, to learn new things, only I can still recall all I have learned from my previous life. I am grateful for this, for it has given me both a new understanding of people, as well as a renewed sense of purpose, an urge to use all that I have been given to give back to the world. Tomorrow, I will return to the hospital for a bone marrow biopsy and CT scan, the results of which will determine whether a bone marrow transplant is possible. No matter the outcome, I am glad to be feeling well at the moment, and immeasurably thankful for being given the strength and support to endure a journey more arduous than I could have imagined.
Justin, what a beautiful entry on your blog. You are one incredible human being. I praise your strength, determination, and inspiring insight. You have always been one to give back, and it seems that this journey has further empowered your pursuit! Much love to you, your family and friends. Thank you for sharing your journey. Praise from upstate NY!! -Beth Glassanos
Hi, son:It was wonderful to see you this week in such upbeat mood and relaxing condition. Susan (though I haven't met) is so generous to open her comfortable home to you and mom to stay. I thank God for such a gracious arrangement during my visit.. Like Guma, Ellen, Auntie Fei...have said and quoted numerous time, God's grace is sufficient for you....and every time, I feel God is providing you with amazing blessings at His own timing that no one in this world can plan ahead and arrange for you.Stay strong and be thankful each day that your life has given you new meaning and purpose. Remember to pray and put your trust in God.Love,Dad
Justin-Once again we are so happy to read your courageous and positive reflections; and thank you for sharing your thoughts and Faith with so many friends and relatives. With all our love, U Selwyn and Ae
Justin-I was in such a hurry to "get in touch" with you again I did not even sign my previous note properly!! A Ellie
Just wanted to say Hi.
Hey J-Good to hear you're getting some strength back. Hopefully we can meet up soon!
Hey Just-JustA beautifully written post. Keep smiling and praying. Keep warm! The winter will soon go away and so will your illness. Exodus 14:14 "The Lord will fight for you. You only need to be still." Do read the entire chapter of Exodus 14 - it is a great reminder of how one should rely on God for help and He always provides at the perfect time.V
Hi Justin, I truly enjoy reading your new posting---it was written with such sensibility and the description was so vivid that I felt like I was there.God has blessed you with so many gifts. :-)I know there are still battles ahead, please remain positive and remember to take a moment each day to seek God for guidance. "Rely on God not only when we need Him in wilderness but also as we reach our promised land"With love and prayers from auntie Fei
Justin-We just received your Mother's mail with your GREAT news! A wonderful way to start the New Year. Keep praying and have faith in God. Love, A Ellie and U Selwyn
I bet the reason they didn't let you out of ICU was because the nurses like you too much!! It's great news that the leukaemia is in remission, and you are feeling stronger.When we start out on our adult lives, I guess most of us have the expectation and hope of a relatively comfortable journey to a relatively comfortable destination, with most of the travel plans under our control... However, instead of going to a civilised Caribbean island on a scheduled flight, God has sent you to the Antarctic with no preparation, and a dogsled team over which you have no control. And yet you are able to feel the wonder and see the beauty of that savage landscape, and describe the journey and what you see for those of us who will probably never make such a journey. Thank you Justin!We will continue to pray for the next phase of your journey.With much love to you and your mum,Ellen