Devin is doing fine, has actually finished intensive treatment. He has begun maintenance (which still involves daily oral chemo and weekly blood tests), and stopped again because his blood counts are slow to recover. That’s normal, apparently – his bone marrow has been absolutely pummelled and is exhausted. We can go home, but we’re waiting for the surgery to remove his central line. They asked us if we’d go back to Dubbo now and come back for the removal? Um, no. It’s easy to say “go home and come back”, but in practice that’s, “pack up all your stuff, drive 400km with a 4 year old and an infant, unpack all your stuff, pack some bags again, drive 400km with a 4 year old and an infant, stay for a day or two, drive 400km with a 4 year old and an infant, unpack your bags again.” No, thank you.
Miriam is adorable and exhausting. She sleeps quite well at night, in our bed, after being nursed to sleep over two hours, but is not so great on the naps during the day. She practically lives in the Tula.
I could write here forever. As in, I have that much to write about, not that I actually have the energy or clarity of mind to get it out.
I just want to go home. Even though I know it will be hard and I’m sure I’ll cry a lot during the re-adjustment.
And the food. We’ll miss the variety of food…