Today’s number is 12.5. Haemoglobin. Strong enough, maybe too strong. And so the question hangs in the air: do we give the Aranesp injection, or not?

For weeks now, the answer has been “no.” The haemoglobin has been high, and the risk of pushing it further is real. Hold off, wait, protect. But dialysis doesn’t play by neat rules. If we don’t give it, the drop could come suddenly, dramatically. The body can tumble from “too high” to “too low” in the space of a fortnight. And then the struggle begins again—fatigue, breathlessness, the weight of anaemia pressing down.

It’s a balancing act. Not just numbers on a chart, but a lived rhythm. The injection is both promise and peril: promise of strength, peril of excess. Each decision is provisional, shaped by today’s reading, today’s body, today’s risk.

And yet, this is the reality of chronic care. The line between “enough” and “too much” is razor-thin. The clinicians weigh it carefully, but the patient feels it daily. The tiredness when haemoglobin dips. The restless energy when it climbs. The uncertainty of whether today’s choice will hold tomorrow.

So we wait. We watch. We trust the rhythm, even when it falters. And we keep showing up—to the chair, the machine, the needle, the numbers. Because this is what resilience looks like: living in the tension, holding the paradox, and choosing presence in the midst of uncertainty.