Home, At Last

Yesterday was a whirlwind of pokes and examinations and consultations and then his Ticket To Ride (seriously, that's in the header of the order for transportation) arrived and, after a stop at the pharmacy for 6 prescritions) Sam wheeled him out to the car.

It was 102 degrees.  My car had been sitting in the sun for 6 hours.  The air conditioning did its best, but standing up was a challenge for my sweetie.  We got home and put him into his own bed - ahhhhhhhhhh - and filled his nightstand with Diet Coke and iced tea and Smart water and graham crackers.  

He'd have ensconced himself on the living room couch if the television had been working, but for some unknown reason it refused to connect to the cable box.  I have to say it felt like the world was conspiring against us.  Or, as the Golden Gopher put it, if he didn't have bad luck he'd have no luck at all.

It took me an hour to make a chart with the names, doses, times and what it's for.  6am, 10am, noon, 2pm, 6pm, 10pm, and midnight are the times for the regularly scheduled drugs.  Should he need the oxycodone, that's a whole other timeline.  We napped through the noon dose and hoped that his body wouldn't notice that we were an hour late.

We're managing several diagnoses at the same time.  Everyone wants to be sure we understand all the directions and parameters and contraindications; as long as I'm taking notes to review later I'm doing fine.  

Now we're trying to reschedule the appointments we missed while he was hospitalized.  This is harder than one might imagine; one phone was busy from 8am until I called the main switchboard at 3pm and the lovely receptionist somehow managed to get me through.  I'm waiting for the doctor to talk to the scheduler who will call us back on one of the three phone numbers on file.

Sigh.

We've spent the day wondering how those without our particular set of skills and free time manage any of this.  I'm grateful for good insurance (even with that there's a $2000 co-pay for one drug) and money in the bank and family and friends who support us emotionally from near and far.  

And we're only just getting started.  

Chin up. Shoulders back. Smile pasted on my face.  We'll get through this together... and by that I am including all of you who've left loving comments on The Burrow.  Please understand if I'm too tired respond as I usually do.  

Onward and upward, as Daddooooo would say when life struck another blow.