the calm after the storm
things are good. both moves went well, and our stuff is on its way across the ocean to the mainland. our apartment is now devoid of everything except for an air mattress and some clothes. and hubby is doing awesome for the time being.
10 days till we're back on the mainland!!
hubby and i had the distinct pleasure this evening of getting a phone call from JPPSO (some military anagram that means, "the office that moves your stuff") saying that the days we had booked for our move, 26 and 27 may, were already filled. but not to fear, he says, we can get you in on 19 and 20 may.
which sounded fabulous until i realized that it's 36 hours from now.
we tore apart the bedroom tonight and have random piles sitting all over the living room.
and the clock's still ticking.
this experience has turned me into an emotional rollercoaster. pre-leukemia, i was a tough, cynical 20-something who never got too rattled up about something that wasn't a really big deal.
last night, i sat down to watch extreme makeovers: wedding edition
at 9:00 hst. at 9:03, i went and curled up in a fetal position on my bed and bawled until hubby woke up and held me.
maybe it's because the couple's story hit so close to home. the groom-to-be was 33, and a four-time survivor of non-hodgkins lymphoma. he was 17 when he was diagnosed the first time, as was my hubby. the tv groom-to-be was on the waiting list for a heart transplant because all of the chemo had wrecked his heart.
i listened to their story and thought...is this what we have to look forward to?
or maybe i am just the world's biggest sap.
one last thing, found this during a search for medical humor and it is rather priceless...so i will share.check this out...
i have not been posting a lot lately because of the intense amount of time and labor that we've been dedicating to the upcoming move. although i do have a lovely treat in store for the two people who read this page: i have been working on an entry about healthcare reform. great fun.
true story: i confessed to one of my kids at the center where i work that i started a website and wrote short essays in my spare time. you could quite literally see my "hipness quotient" diminish in the youth's eyes.
in all seriousness though, the past several months have made me consider running away to europe or canada. hubby and i are middle class, educated, and have good health insurance, and know that we're in a better situation than a lot of folks. Then why are we paying $300-$400 a month in copays for his leukemia treatment? (correction: parents-in-law are helping us with copays. since when is having to run to mommy and daddy for help part of the american dream?) don't get me wrong--hubby has received excellent care, and the percentage of the total bill that we are actually responsible for is miniscule (probably 3-4% of the total cost). but if we are struggling to keep up with this, how do people who are worse off deal with long-term illness?
and why does no one in charge seem to care?
here it is...although be forewarned that i have been told that i have a weird sense of humour...the cutie bunch friendly pal pack
double *yay*, as coach hope would say
hubby and i got home from the hospital this evening to another pleasant surprise: our orders to go to DC were here!!
tomorrow: making all of the necessary arrangements to have us and our stuff shipped over there. (and our kitty, too).
if you have any tips on flying with animals, please pass them on.
oh, and coach hope (quoted above) has a blog too. read it here
hubby is coming home today after 9 days in the hospital. what's even better is that they are holding off on treatment until after our move, so we have the entire month of may without hospital stays or lots of appointments. this means that i will actually have a day off where i don't have to be at the hospital!!
and we can actually do fun couple stuff for a change.