Today was a rather challenging day. I think we were all ready to be home.
Chloe began her first round of chemotherapy this morning and had to be hooked back up to her IV. Unlike her first few days with an IV when she laid in bed all day except to go to the bathroom, today she pretty much refused to be in her bed. I can't blame her. So instead she spent the day pushing her IV "tree" around, like this:
We tried to keep her busy while we began the packing process. The rooms at the hospital are huge and we brought in a lot of stuff over the week. Yet, she was her typical self and just bounced from one thing to the next. Christa and I met with the discharge nurse for close to an hour to get our instructions about medications, our appointments for next week, and all of the things we need to watch for to avoid infection. In the hospital there are hand sanitizer dispensers everywhere and the rule is "wash in, wash out." You wash as you enter a room and wash as you leave. We're going to have to have similar rules around our house for the coming months while she's on chemo.
We were all so excited when we finally got the okay to head home about 5:00. Chloe slept the entire way home and for another half hour in the driveway. Settling back into our routine was more than challenging. Chloe didn't want to eat dinner and everything was stressful (for me at least). We finally decided to just get Chloe to bed. When I went up to tuck her in, I asked her if there was anything or anyone she wanted to pray for. She started crying and talked about one of her friends who didn't visit her in the hospital (we didn't know she wanted her to come) and then moved in to the fear of being bald again. We prayed and then she asked for one story. The book on the top of the pile was a chapter book, the second was a D.W. book (which I wasn't up for reading), so I grabbed the third, a picture book, without looking at the title.
The book I grabbed was On the Night You Were Born. The first page begins, "On the night you were born; the moon smiled with such wonder; that the stars peeked in to see you; and the night wind whispered; 'Life will never be the same.'"
As you can imagine, by the time I had finished reading that much the tears were flowing and I fought to read the rest of the book in a semi-clear voice. I kissed her good night and went into our room to try to regain composure before heading down to the rest of the family. How long will this go on? When will the emotions be not so near the surface?