25 November 2007

He's coming home. Today.

More when he's actually here & it's not a dream, it's a confirmed *real* thing.

18 November 2007

Mount Thermal.

It was a long battle - beginning in June & ending, finally, last night. I finished Thermal. I blocked it, I am wearing it right. now. And...

my camera batteries died - so you'll have to sit tight for some photos.

I've been knitting like crazy - I have lots of time to knit because I spend my waking hours either at work (knitting, talking about knitting, reading knitting patterns, etc..) or at the hospital - knitting. Gord is Neutropenic, so we can't touch at all. No hugs, no highfives, no nose nuzzles. So I keep my hands busy by knitting. More updates as projects actually get finished.

Today I got myself out to have brunch with some friends (much needed, even if I was iffy about fitting it into my schedule) & then I went to the hospital. The Santa Claus Parade was today & the route goes right past Princess Margaret where Gord is. Hospital for Sick Kids is across the street - so they bundle up the kids who can go outside and the others get to wave to Santa from the window. I watched the parade from Gord's window - my head pressed against the glass. Half watching the parade, half watching the patients from surrounding hospitals looking down from their windows. I gave Gord a play-by-play "And now Mr. Peanut is dancing in the middle of the street...and now Clifford the Big Red Dog is going by,YUCK! Shriners! and look! The Burlington teen Tour Band!" Then finally, the crowd went absolutely mental, police escorts, tons of booming noise & the great man himself on his sled - wishing everyone the merriest of christmases & HOHOHOing. And a 31 year old woman clapping & waving from 14 floors up. Can Santa bring my boy home to me for Christmas? I hope so.

Tuesday will be the official half-way point of this initial round of chemo & I absolutely could not be more proud of Gord. He's been through so much & he's handling it all with such grace & composure. His doctor told him last week that he was very pleased with Gord's reaction to the treatment. The other night he mentioned that he has it in the back of his mind that he might have to stay for longer than they had initially said, but for now....

This is it. This is it.
This is life, the one you get
So go and have a ball.

This is it. This is it
Straight ahead and rest assured
You can’t be sure at all.

So while you’re here enjoy the view
Keep on doing what you do
So hold on tight we'll muddle through
One day at a time, One day at a time.

So up on your feet. Up on your feet
Somewhere there’s music playing.
Don’t you worry none
We’ll just take it like it comes.

One day at a time, one day at a time.
One day at a time, one day at a time.
One day at a time, one day at a time.
One day at a time, one day at a time.

Do you guys know how long I've had that song in my head for? And how I ache every time I write a blog entry to include the lyrics somehow? FINALLY I got it out of my system. Stay tuned for Wilson Phillips' 'Hold On' to make its way into a future entry.

14 November 2007

Day 8.

Gord's numbers are going low low & lower. He's now neutropenic which means he's super highly susceptible to infection & sickness. I wash my hands about 15 times a day (I'm not even joking.) Seriously - my kingdom for an intensive hand moisturizer. But I don't mind. Not *really*.

He's currently on Day 8 of his 28 days of chemo. So far, I'd say things are going pretty well. He's up & walking quite a bit, his appetite is HUGE (despite the limited & very crappy food he's allowed) and the side effects are pretty manageable. He's been sick to his stomach a couple of times & has become very light-sensitive, but on the whole, I'd say he's doing pretty good. At least his headaches are starting to go away. He's been meeting & talking to some people on his floor, which helps a lot. Everyone has a lot of good insight & there's some pretty inspirational people there.

And speaking of inspiration, did you know it comes in pint-sized babies? It does. Gord's tiny, tiny preemie niece Sophie has been such a ray of sunshine in all of this, and you can read all about her progress on the blog her parents have started! WARNING: Kleenex is a good idea.
Who would ever think that she would have so much in common with her Uncle Gord!

Thanks everyone, for your comments & your e-mails & phone calls. I may not get a chance to get back to you straight-away, but I really, really appreciate the kindness & thoughtfulness that has been showered upon both Gord & I. *Thank You.*

08 November 2007

Day 2.

Gord started chemo on Tuesday - and technically, they call that day zero.

We have a list of all the days (28 of them) & what drugs he'll be getting on which days - with two sneaky "L.P"s listed in there (Lumbar Punctures). The chart looks so. long. He was feeling no side effects up until today - which was filled with dizzy spells, leg pain, extreme headache - I wrote down all the names of the drugs so I can research them & try to be a little bit prepared for what they might do to him.

My schedule is so topsy turvey. I get up, shower, go to work, go to the hospital, come home, make a few phone calls & go to sleep so I can do the same thing the next day. Things like grocery shopping or laundry are falling by the way-side - which is why it's so amazing to have such awesome friends. Three times now I've come home to care packages left by various thoughtful friends - food, (tonight I came home to lovely vegetarian chili made by Mary, and the other night was some deli counter favourites left by Andrea & Dave) wine, chocolate, care packages for Gord (Thanks Emily, Dave, Avril & Frank!) and even some extremely thoughtful snail mail (Thanks Geoffrey!) And last night many, many DVDs were dropped off to keep Gord occupied while he's in the hospital. It all goes so far in reminding me that although this has been a very hard & lonely 2 weeks - mostly spent at the hospital, Gord & I are not alone in this. Nowhere near to it.

I've been self medicating quite a bit - mostly with online retail therapy. Yesterday I bought a Martha's Vineyard Fiber Farm CSA share! I'm incredibly excited about this! I think it's an absolutely fantastic idea - and I think you should buy a share too.

That's going to be my wool one day!

05 November 2007

the new normal.

Gord starts his chemo tomorrow. For the past week I've just been staring at him - his arms, his legs, his face. trying to see it. How can he be sick? He's still so strong.

I've learned so much this past week - about Gord, about myself, and especially about us together, as a unit - as a team. I'm also learning other things, like how to properly wash my hands, what food Gord can & can't have, what Leukemia does to a person's blood, and what chemotherapy does to a person's body.

It's heavy - and I'm surprised by how easily I've slipped into the role of information retainer/relayer, as caretaker, as prescription filler, as The Strong One, or, as I said to some friends in an e-mail the Lovely Elizabeth to Gord's Macho Man Randy Savage.

I've been knitting a lot. mostly stuff for work (gasp! *swoon!*) but last week I finally got to the sleeve decreases on the second Thermal sleeve. That sweater is going down this weekend.

Words can't express how thankful I am to all the people who have reached out to Gord & I. It means so much to us to have such an amazing back up crew - I really believe it will help Gord to recover quickly & fully. Thank You.