Unfortunately, the lumbar puncture yesterday was a disaster.

My otherwise brilliant neurologist tried to access the cerebrospinal fluid from three different areas with multiple long, sharp anesthetic and exploratory needles, but without success. I lay there curled in a fetal position, spine exposed, waiting each time for the needle to come again. It’s an incredibly vulnerable position to be in.

Today, I feel like a skewered chicken tikka – lots of stiffness and some pain combined with the knowledge that after all that anxiety on my part this past week the deed remains undone.

I do have a slight curvature of the spine so I know that makes the procedure more difficult, but the first two spinal taps I ever had were performed without any problems. My ultra-hydration, yoga stretches to open up my back and tranquilizers to make me acquiescent in preparation for the tap were all for naught.

(One upside: the tranqs kept me very, very happy for a long, long time.)

At this point they’re not sure if they’re going to schedule me for another tap since they made a good faith effort yesterday. They did mention something about having a radiologist x-ray my spine to find the best entry point and then do it again – but they also said that was optional.

>>>>Heck, if it’s optional I ain’t doing it!<<<<

Now I am free to obsess about the Rituxan chemotherapy infusion on Friday morning.

It’ll be my third annual cycle of the chemo and I know I should be used to it by now but I always have trouble letting it in without a struggle. Last July I was so closed off to it that they literally couldn’t get an IV in – they all kept bending - and it wasn’t until the 7th try that they finally got it.

The power of the mind is amazing. Even though I was trying to follow my acupuncturist’s pre-tap advice to imagine my spine as a column of light, and to see the taking of a tablespoon of my cerebrospinal fluid as not an invasion of my core but, rather, as something I freely gave, I have to say that every time I tried, my lower back would ache and feel like a solid wall. So, on some level I wasn’t that surprised that he couldn’t get in yesterday.

To prepare for Friday, I’m reading the Prophet’s Prayer of Light (peace and blessings upon him) which helped me accept the chemo last time. All creation is light on some level and it helps me feel more open to having something toxic yet paradoxically healing enter my system if I look at it as another form of light entering my body.

—

Allaahummaj’al fee qalbee nooran, wa fee lisaaanee nooran, wa fee sam’ee nooran, wa fee basaree nooran, wa min fawqee nooran, wa min tahtee nooran, wa ‘an yameenee nooran, wa ‘an shimaalee nooran, wa min ‘amaamee nooran, wa min khalfee nooran, waj’alfee nafsee nooran, wa ‘a’dhim lee nooran, wa ‘adhdhim lee nooran, wafal lee nooran, waj’alnee nooran, Allaahumma ‘a’tinee nooran, waj’al fee ‘asabee nooran, wafee lahmee nooran, wafee damee nooran, wa fee sha’ree nooran, wa fee basharee nooran. Allaahummaj’al lee nooran fee qabree wa nooran fee ‘idhaamee. Wa zidnee nooran, wa zidnee nooran, wa zidnee nooran. Wa hab lee nooran ‘alaa noor.

O God, place light in my heart, and on my tongue light, and in my ears light and in my sight light, and above me light, and below me light, and to my right light, and to my left light, and before me light and behind me light.

Place in my soul light.

Magnify for me light, and amplify for me light.

Make for me light and make me a light.

O God grant me light, and place light in my nerves, and in my body light and in my blood light and in my hair light and in my skin light.

O God, make for me a light in my grave and a light in my bones.

Increase me in light, increase me in light, increase me in light.

Grant me light upon light.

—

If you would like to share something you read or reflect upon in difficult times, I would love to hear it.