I haven’t been blogging. I haven’t wanted to, so I’ve let myself not do it. I suspect part of the reason I don’t want to blog is because the things I’m dealing with are important, but I don’t want to deal with them. How boring of me, yes?
On a completely different note, tomorrow is my mother’s last chemo infusion. And I am sick.
Saturday night/Sunday morning, Hub started feeling sick. That quickly blossomed into a full-on cold, with sore throat, coughing, sneezing, stuffiness, snot, etc. I kept away from him, washed my hands so much they’re cracking and bleeding. I didn’t let him touch any of my plates or cups and I didn’t touch his unless it was with a paper towel…and then I washed immediately so I wouldn’t accidentally touch my face. I wiped the iPad with an alcohol cleaning cloth before using it. I put paper towels in the master bathroom so we didn’t share a hand towel. We didn’t touch or kiss or hug. Only in bed was I even near him.
Last night, the scratchy throat started. I began my homeopathic remedy for symptom control, but I know full well that is ONLY symptom control and not cure. This morning, after absolutely no sleep, my throat is still sore but I’m hopeful it won’t be as bad as Hub’s sore throat which lasted more than a day. Of all the parts of a cold, the sore throat is the worst for me because I had a bad experience (more than one, actually) that landed me in the hospital with dehydration, mono, and strep throat all at the same time. So I try to mitigate the sore throat immediately by gargling with a mix of honey, water, and apple cider vinegar. It usually works, but that mo-fo burns. Presently, I’m trying to burn the remainder of the soreness off with hot tea. Then I’ll go back to gargling. It’s delightful.
The bigger issue…Mom’s infusion tomorrow. Her last. I can’t go. I can’t be selfish and risk getting anyone there sick, and I can’t risk getting the fabulous nurses sick. I am so upset by this that I pretty much cried when I told my mother that I was sick. She rushed to reassure me, but no matter what she says, I’m upset that I can’t be with her. I’m disappointed, because I’ve been with her for 4 of the 5 infusions. I’ve gotten to know the nurses, I wanted to see them all again. I wanted to sit with my mother as the last rush of poison is given to her. I wanted to celebrate with her and the nurses. I wanted to keep her company and make her laugh and make her smile and talk about stuff. Instead, I’m sick. And she will have to find things to keep her occupied for six hours. Yes, my Dad will be with her, but he’s a smoker and he has to go leave to smoke (and get her lunch), so there will be times she’ll be alone in that stupid infusion center. It sucks.
I’m still expecting to go meet her after the infusion is over. The hospital has a bell in the outdoor courtyard that patients get to ring after their last infusion. I’ll put on a mask, stand at the other end of the courtyard, and video her ringing the bell. And we’ll be in separate cars, so hopefully no chance of her catching my cold. I’m not going to miss that moment.
PS for those keeping track, I’ve moved on to a disgusting concoction of minced garlic and powdered chicken broth, with hot water poured over it. Sort of like a soup. Did I mention disgusting? But supposedly the garlic is good for fighting infection and boosting the immune system. Yum.