Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Taking it Back

My heart, mind and body have spent 7 months caring for My Handsome Prince and my girls. My heart, mind and body have spent 5 seasons caring for the guests of the conference center. Now I am claiming some of my free time for me. My heart is free to love without worry, my mind allowed to day dream, and my body to work hard for my own benefit.
I hired a personal trainer. I hired her because she reminded me of me in my fitness days, fun, bossy, motivating, and knowledgeable. I guess I am tooting my own horn as much as hers. We met today for the first time. We are working outside for as long as possible with minimal equipment, a huge, heavy rope, TRX, and a mat.  What a glorious day to work out outside! What a challenging workout! Tomorrow I'm own my own with a brisk walk on the beach sans dogs with gallon jugs of water in each hand. She's gonna kick my ass and I'm going to love it!

Friday, September 13, 2013

When September Comes

I remember the days when my girls would start back to school.  It was a time of new schedules, experiences and possibilities. It is much the same now. We are home. For good.  Treatment is over, work (for me) is dwindling down, work is starting up (?) for My Handsome Prince. A routine is already being formed. We miss the girls but they are back to doing what they need to do. My Czech students will all be gone by tomorrow doing what they need to do.  There are some medical tests to be done over the next few weeks, a new pup entering the house, a new job, visits with friends near and far. All good stuff.

Wednesday, September 04, 2013

Like Clockwork

The fever usually hits between 3 and 7pm five days after discharge from chemotherapy. We started taking his temperature around 5pm and sure enough, it began to rise. This time we were already in Baltimore. I was hoping for a direct admission into Weinberg but that didn't happen. The on call oncologist directed us to the ED at Hopkins. We drove up to the entrance but there were so many people milling about, smoking, staggering, coughing, and who knows what else that the thought of dropping him off to park was not something I felt comfortable doing. So I drove over to the garage, parked then frantically ran all through the cavernous place looking for a wheelchair. A security guard directed me to one and I loaded him up.  We checked in with the admitting desk and were directed to sit in the waiting room and wait. I know the horror on my face was evident when I asked if there was a place away from everyone. We were instructed to wait in the vestibule so I parked My Handsome Prince in a corner. Neutropenia is nothing to mess with so I called the on call oncologist, again, and asked if she was sure this is where she wanted us to be. I just couldn't imagine it would be with all the germs in a packed emergency room. She assured me that we would be taken car of and within 10 minutes we were whisked back into a room, door closed, attendants all suited up with masks and gowns. In record time, blood was drawn, cultures taken and antibiotics started. His fever was down before he got to his room on the all too familiar yet reassuring 4A.
This has been a much easier time than the last episode. I don't look back a whole lot because then I start to wonder how in the hell we have made it. It's a lot easier to just be in the moment. The girls and I have had conversations about "the end". It will never be over, nor has it been for 21 years. The quarterly scans will continue for a few years then dwindle down to only a couple a year then possibly annually. Our greatest hope is that it never comes back and our reality is that it will never leave. We can live with that. Isnt that the point of all this?