Cancer

“It Starts With ‘H’ but it Ain’t No Hotel”

I’m going to keep this pretty simple.  Trent is back in Brackenridge, pushing through round 2 of Adriamycin/Dacarbazine.  The days before his admission and administration are becoming more and more difficult, for everyone.  He’s doing well as of today, but that is via phone call this morning on my way to work, when he is very aware of how influential a morning call from the hospital can be.  I have to see his face to confirm how truthful he’s being about how he’s doing.  Actually, I don’t have to see his face, I know in my heart how he is.

Anyway, he’ll be with the lovely nurses and clinical assistants of the 9th floor until Thursday early afternoon.  (Sidebar, the best advice I can give is to be nice to your nurses.  Learn their names, say hello, make a connection.  These things go a loooong way.)  We, at home, will make it work until then ie. getting Lily to and from school in a timely manor, making sure Sabrinna goes to EVERY class, keeping Cole happy, and keeping Gavin from A. clobbering Cole and B. killing the fish with kindness see. dumping an entire large canister of flakes into their water (So sorry, tigerbarb #3.  Sail on, my friend.)   Somewhere in there sleep might happen for Mom and I, but honestly and as you can imagine, that is not my concern.  I just want the love of my life to come home and be ok.

I will say this, we certainly made the most of the in-between.  Attended a Stupid Cancer meet-up, which was great (Thank you, everyone).  I made a trip to Houston (Thank you. Regan) the day of Sabrinna’s 18th birthday and got to watch her play her last tournament as a high school volleyball player (Thank you, Wolfes). Trent and I had an evening of laughter with good friends at “The Summer of ’69,” although that evening did also feature a weird breakdown by your’s truly (Thank you, Matt and Melissa).  Got a certain senior prepared for prom #3, prom #4 is pending (jeez) (Thank you, Trent, Amy, Cyndi and Kim).  Lily wrapped up her club volleyball season (Thank you, Mom).  Gavin is talking (a lot) and Cole is walking (a little)!  Lastly, we attended a birthday party in the park on the most perfect of days with little to no traumatic events, just a near miss (a toddler, a pond, a wet stranger…Thank you, Arrieta-Moraleses).

I’m still searching for meaning in all of this, occasionally desperately.  I sometimes feel very close to and just when I think I might have found something worth holding onto it seems to lose it’s validity pretty quickly.  I do feel slightly on the verge – and I don’t think it’s insanity or a nervous breakdown.  It might actually be mostly tangible.  I’ll share when I find it.  Promise.

2 thoughts on ““It Starts With ‘H’ but it Ain’t No Hotel”

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