Saturday, November 22, 2008

i'm going home today ... hopefully

I'm sitting in the seventh floor lounge that overlooks the Mississippi River. I see a light sprinking of snow on the paths below and a good number of crunchy footprints and - what are those? - cross country ski tracks, or parallel bike tracks? I've heard it's been very cold this week. At least the sun is out, at least, glittering on the river.

I waited a long time yesterday to get started on chemo. I'm kind of getting used to the waiting - or at least learning to expect it. They moved me to this floor sometime in the early afternoon, but my chemo didn't begin until about 10:30 p.m. Which was OK because it meant I could sleep through most of it. My night sweats were really bad. I had to change my gown twice, and the nurse changed my sheets once, because everything was so damp.

I can't go home right away today because now they've told me I have anemia, on top of everything else. My hemoglobin count has been in the 7 range for the past couple of days, which is pretty low. So before I go home, I'm getting a blood transfusion. I balked about this when I first heard about it last night, but I'm OK with it now.

They told me they'd be giving me the tranfusion "in the morning," but knowing how long things take to happen around here, I've got my lunch menu ready. I just hope I don't have to wait until 10:30 p.m.!

I talked to Steve again this morning, and heard Benjamin's cheerful, burbling laughter. Daniel sounded grown-up and happy when he said "Hi" into the phone and then started telling me there was snow outside. I asked him if he was going to go outside and play in it, and suddenly I was no longer top priority - he gave the phone back to Steve and started going for his shoes. Steve said Daniel asked last night if Mommy was out in the hall, and that got me crying again, big-time. I wish I'd never have to be any farther than out in the hall. I wish I didn't have to think about him ever having to lose me.


Lynn said...

Hi Emilie,

I found this poem about hope by another Emily and thought I would send it to you. I hope you get to go home today and give lots of love to those beautiful boys. You are an amazing person, one whom I have grown to admire simply by reading your blog. You are in my thoughts and prayers.

- Lynn

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul.
And sings the tune
Without the words,
and never stops at all.
- Emily Dickinson

battynurse said...

I hope you do get your transfusion soon and will be home for dinner time. Everything in the hospital does take so forever long to get done. Thinking of you and your family.

Queenie. . . said...

Sometimes, all you can do is immerse yourself in the things that make you happy and (try to) ignore the bad stuff. I hope tomorrow finds you enjoying the little things, even if it's watching Daniel in the snow through the window. When all seems overwhelming, focus on this day, this hour, this minute.

You're in my thoughts.

otrey3 said...

Hi, Emilie, I'm so glad it appears the end of this hospital stay is in sight. I love Queenie's words, too, to focus on the now. I'll try to do more of it, too.

Good luck with the transfusion. I bet you'll feel much better when your hemoglobin is up.

--Laura S.

Megan Thomas said...


I'm glad to hear that you'll be heading home soon. Sounds like you've been through a lot in the last few days -- I wish you peace and laughter when you return home.


Amy M said...

Dorothy said it best, "there's no place like home". I hope you are finding your way there soon and get to hold those three special guys in your arms. Your arms must be very lonesome.