I didn't make an entry here last night because yesterday was pretty uneventful. Today Glenn had an appointment at the clinic to see what his labs showed. He still has some out of whack, but we are tweaking his meds to try to fix that. But most of it looks good. He goes back tomorrow morning to get rechecked. The P.A. (physician's assistant) feels like he should be ready to be discharged. But, we have to see if he can get his central line removed tomorrow, or if we will have to wait until the beginning of next week. (One day at a time, remember?)
Glenn slept much better last night and was up a lot of the day today. That's a big improvement. He took an anti-nausea medicine with his nightly hoard of pills and we think that might have helped him sleep for 6 hours straight. He was able to go back to sleep again and sleep another couple hours. We're wondering if that is what made the difference, or if his body is just making so many good cells to replace the ones that were destroyed with the chemotherapy that he is feeling the good effects. Whatever it is, he was glad to be awake and up for a lot of the day. We had a visitor from Jax this afternoon. It was so nice to see him, (an elder and great friend from church) He was playing hooky from work, but don't tell him that because he is his own boss and we don't want him to get in trouble with his boss.
Seems like several people here are being discharged tomorrow and a new round of residents and caregivers is coming. I was wondering if the new people would make friends here, but this afternoon I saw some bonding happening. Good to see. I feel like I'm kind of a "mom" for the new ones, (even though several are older than I am), and want to make sure they adjust well and have a good experience here, as we have. We have gotten accustomed to life here and it's going to be another adjustment going home again. As I have expressed before, we have made friends here with whom we have a common bond and speak the same "language". We will be making the adjustment back to "normal" life and that's a little scary. Here, we aren't shocked to see each other with bald heads with hats to keep them warm, burn marks on faces and necks from radiation therapy, having conversations with people who can't talk because of damage from cancer and treatment, darkened skin from chemotherapy, bodies wasting away while hoping to beat their disease. It's all "normal" here. Out there everyone looks pretty healthy so we look kind of freaky and different. We walk slow and humped over from weakness, sometimes finding the energy to smile. So that's why we feel a little insecure leaving here. Plus, we have the medical care just up the road in case of any unforeseen change. They are familiar with us and our diseases and know what to do. But, I'm sure we will learn to adjust back to "normal" life outside of our cocoon here. Just know that when you see us, we are still the same people you knew before we came here; we're still the same inside even if we look a different on the outside.