Before I say another thing, I want to give JT a BIG thank-you for this 2nd trip to Manhattan. He graciously brought me over here a few days ago and now he's here to take me home. And he has brought Jen with him. I am a very happy man. And he is a good driver - after riding through the streets of NYC with him, I'd trust him anywhere.
SO - when we are situated in the back of the SUV, and JT pulls out, I realize that every turn and bump is going to hurt. A lot! I lean against the door on my right for the left turns, but the first right turn feels like all my stitches are popping out. I grip the door's arm rest so tightly to keep from swaying that I pull the insert right out of the handle. Whoa! Again, JT is not doing anything wrong, but the pain is deep and every move hurts. And we have 100 miles to go! Jen is beside me, talking to me, but all I can think of is the fact that I hurt, and that I am bleeding through my shirt. I try to smile, but there will be no enjoyment on this ride, only endurance. I want to be home in the worst way!
It is the longest 100 miles I have ever traveled, but we finally arrive at Amanda's house, where Jen had left our car. I really don't want to stay too long, but I do want to thank Amanda and JT for all of their help in this. Amanda immediately spots the blood on my shirt, but Jen explains it away as "seepage." I will not be sitting down on any furniture! After another round of thank you's and get-well wishes, we head out to the Escort for the final 12-mile ride home to Palmerton. Uh-oh! I thought getting into the SUV was hard, but this little car is going to be worse. I have to lower myself down into it, and every move is painful! But I'm going home, and I want to get going now. We shoe-horn me into the passenger seat, and immediately decide that there will be no seat-belt for me on this ride. I'm counting the miles and watching the street signs as we get closer and closer, and then we're pulling up out front.
Now our little home has a ramp leading up to the door, and right now, it's perfect. As Jen unlocks the door, we discuss the "girls" - our two dogs, Sandy and Sasha - and try to figure out how to keep them from jumping on me. After being gone for almost 4 days, they're going to go nuts when I walk through that door. And so Jen leads the way, and as I appear in the doorway, they behave just as expected. Sandy is jumping so high that she just about reaches eye-level with me on every leap! Sasha isn't much better. But as painful as it is, I try to greet and pet both of them. It's pandemonium, but it's healing to me - I am home, and my furry children are ecstatic. Even our two cats are pleased to see me again.
I usually keep myself fairly busy around the house. We both do our share, and everything runs more or less smoothly. But now, Jen has had to do her work and mine, and we are still in the initial stages of moving. Little things like walking the dogs were shared, and some things (like cleaning the kitty litter boxes) were my chores. Everything is now on her shoulders, and she has been so great during my little trip to Manhattan. She is adamant about my not doing anything, just relaxing and recuperating, but to my little ADD brain, it just ain't right! And so Jen has come up with her own little saying: "Don't piss off the nurse!" Every time I try to do anything - ANYTHING! - I get that verbal hand-slap. She is really good at one small task - scratching my back. It itches like crazy, and I can't do it. She fluffs my pillows, and she really shines when it comes to giving me a bath. Oh yeah...
SO - I have been home now for over two weeks. A quick trip to Manhattan to get stitches and the drain removed, and the healing is going well. Most of the swelling on my "shoulder pad" has gone down, my back still looks like I wrestled a croc and lost, and there is still some tightness on my left side. I'm dressing myself, and driving the car, and I even put down some mulch out front and weed-whacked the back yard. Dr. Z said that it would probably take about 6 months before things started to look normal (whatever that is!) again. As of this writing, I still do not have the pathology report on the lymph nodes, but Jen and I aren't worried. No news is good news, and I have had a whole lot of people praying for me. I am trusting in total healing for this cancer. And just a few nights ago, we were watching a reunion of the "Mary Tyler Moore" show, and listened to Valerie Harper's super-positive outlook on things, and she has been diagnosed with a terminal cancer. Jen and I lean very heavily on our Christian faith. When I hear others claim that we use our faith as a crutch, I totally agree with them. For, you see, when we are given things to bear that are sometimes very hard to endure, it is our God who gets us through them. He was my crutch throughout this ordeal, and when I started to feel despair or fear sometimes, it was prayer that gave me strength. My own prayers, and those of many others who heard of my illness and offered to pray for me. This story is a testament to my faith, and I give Him all the glory!
Our Father, who art in Heaven,
Hallowed be Thy Name.
Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done,
On Earth as it is in Heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
And forgive us our trespasses,
As we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
For Thine is the Kingdom, and the Power, and the Glory,
Forever and ever, Amen!
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