My last myeloablative chemos were today, and they are adding up. I'm tired and my schedule is twisted. I continue to get the Zofran and steroids for the next two days still, but hopefully I will be able to sleep a bit more without having to be woken up for infusions. I am not so naive as to say that these will be my last chemos ever (though one can hope), but I am still so happy that they are the last ones for now! And that makes me really emotional. The fallout and side effects won't hit me fully for awhile, but I don't have to be hooked up to the poison, and that brought the tears.
Greg had some things to bring in to me (the mattress topper, some picture frames, etc.) and picked up some of my dirty laundry, and when I was arranging the time to have the nurses swap things, I teared up, thinking about Greg being so close and not being able to see him. My amazing nurse said that, since my counts were decent, if I masked up, I could walk down to do the swap with him. So of course I did. I was even able to hug him. It was so worth it, even though it made me even more emotional...
I came back to the room and both of my wonderful daytime nurses helped me unpack and re-make my bed and get everything set up. My aide asked me about how long Greg and I were married, about our kids, etc. and I just let it all sob out. It felt good to not hold things in.
And then I unpacked the binder that holds all the posters that so many of you held on the parade that you gave me a week ago. Even more emotions. I am the luckiest person to be so surrounded by family and friends who make sure that I know that I am loved and cared about. How can I help but be emotional at that?
The first chunk of this elephant has been eaten.
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