OMG, yes, I speak, IM.
The doctors say, that we are leaving today.
Last night, Isa said that she had a pain. I may have made a bigger deal of it than necessary. In the back of my mind, perhaps, I felt she’d be safer here. Where the nurses and doctors are just a button away.
Just now, we wait for Isa, PEG Aparaginase to take effect, and to see if there will be any reactions to the medication. So far so good. Lunch is also on its way. Gratefully, after that Isa will likely sleep.
G. is being wiggly, and Isa is screaming because G is playing with “her” toy. Sibling stuff doesn’t change just because one is sick. Explain cancer to a 3 & 4 year old.
If the feeling of diagnosis is a punch in the stomach then leaving the hospital is like getting ready to give a speech in front of an audience, without being prepared. Nerve-wracking! Like having too much coffee, which I haven’t had, or eating a stick of Energy Gum. Does anyone remember Jolt? I haven’t tried a can of Monster, but I am sure that I’d feel exactly as I do right now. Whack!
Papa & I are tired, anxious and cranky. And taking it out on each other. Every time I try to pack up, someone comes in. Damn, the people in the hospital care not about anxious mothers, who can’t handle people interrupting her. It is time to pack. It is time to leave.
I liken it to the first time you take the baby home from the hospital. Of course, both Isa & G were born at home, so this is only my imagination working. But the fear of germs, of a fall, of dropping the medicine under the fridge, whatever, I can imagine it all. Being in the moment, is tough when the moment is stressful.
“Remember the breath, it will bring you to the present.” Gee, thanks Eckhart, exactly where I want to be.
Ultimately, we will be fine. I know this, God doesn’t give you more than you can handle. We have support. Thanks to all those that have donated. Thanks to all that have extended an invitation to help. We have been graced with a place locally to live during the induction period. (about a month.) The moment is better than I believe it to be.
Never-the-less, I feel alone.