going, going, gone

hubby is trudging on through the daily routine of 1) wake up, 2) eat breakfast, 3) wrap chest in plastic and shower, 4) report to clinic, 5) sit and be a good boy while the nurses fill up a whole i.v. rack of drug drips that aren't going to make him healthier or feel better for the short term. he is now neutropenic and has virtually no immune system left. it is not safe for him to leave the apartment, or the sterile prison of the clinic, without the label of a surgical mask plastered across his face. this is part of the game, and we have several weeks of "every speck of dust is a threat", and not being able to walk through public spaces without perfect strangers knowing what our story is, to look forward to.
this is ultimately for the best, although we will not know if the transplant worked until day 30. we no longer live by the julian calendar but by the calendar that the nurses prepared for us. there are no saturdays or wednesdays or thursdays, but time is measured in days before and after transplant. hence 20 more days until we find out if this was all worth it.
questioning why this has happened to us again. we are stereotypical "good people." hubby was an eagle scout for christ's sake. karma is not working for us. why try to follow the rules and be a good person when shit keeps falling on you anyway? trying to quell the wave of lawlessness that is brewing in my head...

posted by amanda @ 10:51 PM


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