We're facing that needle two Mondays out of three.
We're trying to kill that cancer that's encroaching on our life.
We're thinking that we'd like another summer.
Tonight, we're sick.
Chemo attacks all fast-dividing cells; it attacks the immune system; it changes one's 'suck it up' theory of handling illness.
Any time Mike runs a fever over 100.5, I am to take him to the Emergency Room so they can assess his various fluids and levels and vitals. So, on Sunday, when the thermometer flashed RED and 102.6, we drove to the hospital. It was 8:30 AM.
By 12:00, all the tests were back and they told us they would admit Mike shortly. As all their numbers were so literal, I thought that 'shortly' meant shortly, so I left Mike (sleeping so well), and ran a few errands. When I returned at 4, I called Admitting; they had no record of my guy. That's because Mike was STILL lying on a gurney in the ER, waiting.
As soon as I raised the question, they found an open room and we rode upstairs.
Lesson: I won't leave anyone unattended in an ER.
So, since Sunday, Mike has been cared for by a team of competent, cheery men and women, who have many duties that they must do many times during their shifts. In and out. In and out. In and out.
The temp. is back to normal, but the other things are still "too low" or "a little bit high." So again, tonight, he's tucked in across town.
The last two days have been deja vu: cuddling in the hospital bed; holding hands and talking about weighty matters; those funky green 'gowns'; automatic machines that fall off line way too often and then BEEP BEEP BEEP. We're both tired. I'll be back tomorrow when he wakes up.
So, for tonight, friends, you can pray for us. The pain behind Mike's ear continues to cause him much distress. They keep attacking it with meds. Please God, THAT has nothing to do with cancer. Maybe it can go away?