One at a Time

Recovering from an injury or an illness does never move in a straight line. There are ups and there are downs. Generally speaking you look for two steps forward and one step backwards. As long as you're making progress you're on target.

My Dad is settled into Spang Crest in Lebanon right now. He was a bit grouchy and solemn on Sunday, according to my Mom. But he turned it all around yesterday. He even went for a walk down the hallway, which is a big step in the right direction.

The nurse said that my Dad didn't want anything to do with a breakfast she delivered. But when she returned, it was all gone.

He told my Mom that he wants to go home. That's another good sign.

He asked her if she would take care of him.

"Of course I will," she answered.

My Mom said that he was smiling and laughing a lot yesterday. Monday was a step forward.

Meanwhile I was taking a step backward yesterday. Between the CT prep drink, the CT dye that is injected, the chemo, and the steroid, a war erupted through my entire digestive system. These drugs all together obviously didn't get along.

This morning things do seem to be settling down. It seems as if a cease fire is in place and I'm mainly just feeling stiff and sore from yesterday's battleground.

As in any delicate cease fire I'm trying to keep a close eye on things today to make sure the cease fire holds.

My Mom has told me that my Dad and I are not allowed to have bad days at the same time. We have to take turns. She can only handle one at a time, she said with a laugh.

That seems like a logical request. I'll do my very best to oblige.