By now, we all know the drill... Laurie has four day chemo rounds. In on Tuesday means out on Friday.
It's a combination of a few things this time around: excess saline in the chemo bags led to a higher drip, later check in = later check out... But the largest culprit seems to be my body at large. I'm not making enough red blood cells (like, even when I'm in the hospital and on constant watch), so... they came in around 6:00 tonight and told me the doc wants to keep me overnight. He wants to do a hemoglobin infusion tonight, and then check my blood in the morning before he lets me go.
I won't lie. While I totally understand - and appreciate - his point of view, I just want to go home. So, I told the sweet emmissary nurses that I totally iunderstood, and then I rolled to my side and wept bitter tears that I don't even get to go home when I want to anymore.
And as I lay there, grieving my loss of a Friday night spent home in the comfort of my own bed (I know, how melodramatic am I?), I felt the sun fall onto my bed, and almost heard someone tell me to open my eyes.
And that's when I realized... there are some things that can't be seen from the comfort of my own bed, but sure as heck CAN be seen from the fifth floor of the hospital, in a picture window, no less.
I didn't get what I wanted tonight, but I did get something that I needed. (And I'm not talking about the kitchen-hours-aren't-open-so-I-have-a-dinner-of-Ensure or that extra pint of blood.)
I love sunsets. They're such a grand reminder that, while one day is ending, another is just about to begin. ... And THAT is what I needed today.