Go clock!

Yesterday improved markedly with yet another anti nausea medicine (the third or fourth) and visitors. One came totally unexpectedly (she lives in Wellington but needed to be in Auckland for the day) and the other was a friend of a friend who was wonderful to get to know, even in these rather unhappy circumstances. I managed to be awake and alert for them the whole time (as opposed to my poor Wednesday visitors who mostly got the thrilling experience of watching me sleep). Michael and I even took a walk down into the hospital gardens—a very close walk to be honest but with obstacles like hills and stairs and rough path. I did very well then and am doing better still this morning.

The four big questions for today: 1) Will I be able to make it without the heavy duty painkillers that make me feel so sick? They’ve all worn off now and I’m just on Panadol and I am definitely feeling the difference.  So we’ll see how that goes. 2) Will I be allowed to go home? Yesterday Stan said he’d decide today. I am so wanting to go home. 3) What will I think about my body once the tight ace bandages come off today? How grossed out will I be at the cuts that are everywhere? (Remember that he had to do some work on the healthy breast so that they could be a better match, so my whole chest is sore.) 4) And finally: will he have any biopsy results with him when he shows up this morning—and what will they say???

I used to watch American Football sometimes (generally the Super Bowl at a party with friends) and the truth is, I can’t stand it. So while my friends were rooting for one team or the next, I would root for the clock. Ever since we got this cancer diagnosis and knew we were looking down the barrel at the longest and most difficult month of our lives so far, Michael and I have been rooting for the clock. The minutes pass so slowly when you are waiting for news or an appointment or a surgery. I have tried to live my life to never want it to go by quickly; I have always tried not to do the things that I would wish would just hurry up and end. After all, we have an unknown but limited about of time on the planet, and we should savour it as much as we possibly can. But in this time of pain and fear and sadness, I have decided that rooting for the clock is ok. I’ll go back to the world of not wanting time to pass quickly soon enough. But as we sit here in the sunshine in my hospital room, the only thing Michael and I can think is: Go clock!

I’ll be back in touch later in the day with some answers to these questions. I hope I get good ones.