Simon and Garfunkel would be jealous. They sang about wishing they were homeward bound. But I actually AM!
They are springing me from this place this morning. Hallelujah! I’m just waiting for the Oncology team to make their rounds and, once they sign the paperwork, I’m outta here!
I actually had a taste of freedom last evening as the head docs from Infectious Disease and Dermatology both signed off on me and said I was ready to go home. I was quite pleasantly surprised by that turn in events as I’d been told to expect to be here til Monday.
Don and Theo were here with me, visiting. We were trying to do a modified version of our Friday Night family thing in my hospital room. The summer sky was gorgeous and it was so clear that we could see the RenCen and the rest of the Detroit Skyline from my hospital window. Theo was snuggled into bed beside me, watching an episode of Transformers on my iPad, when they told me I could start packing.
You’ve never seen such a whirlwind — IV pole and all. We got me packed up in minutes and I was sitting on the edge of my bed (and my seat) when the nurse came in and told me there was a glitch. They couldn’t find anyone from the Oncology Team to sign off on me. The rules (you KNOW how I feel about rules, and for good reason!) state that someone from Oncology must either be present at the hospital to sign off on me, or he or she can do it electronically via computer from elsewhere. It has to be someone who had seen me at some point this week. None of the team members who had seen me was here and those who were reachable didn’t have computer access, wherever they were.
By this time, it was 9:15 and I was exhausted from a long day that ended with several biopsies of my sores, which was painful and I ached. So, I knew I could do this another 12 hours, even if what I truly wanted was to get in the car with my boys, roll the windows down and let the fresh summer air fill my lungs,
Theo was my heartbreak. As soon as he heard that Mommy wasn’t going to be able to come home after all, he collapsed into a heap of sobs and little boy kicking. He exhibited what we were all feeling.
My heart ached for him, as I know this has been a tough, confusing week for him and knew how much he wanted and needed me home. I wrapped him into my arms and rocked him and promised that everything was going to be OK; Mommy really was coming home in the morning.
“But what if you don’t?” he said. And we understood. He, like us, had been hearing all week tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. And though Don and I understood, Theo, after all, is only 5. And his question was logical.
Indeed I AM coming home today, and what a homecoming it will be! I have learned so much this week, medically, spiritually, and have much to share with you after I get settled in.
Thank you for all of your notes, blog comments, and most of all, prayers this week. I can assure you that not only did the Great Physician hear them, He answered them.
Copyright 2011, Amy Rauch Neilson