The Eye before the Storm

Now I know how they feel in Hurricane country. The wait. The anticipation of the winds (the chemo) and the rains ( radiation) and the tidal surge ( the side affects). You can never figure out how any of it is going to work.

We are in the calm before the storm. We have this little trip for a blood draw to see if her platelets have been following their friends white blood cells and run up the mountain. I guess they are very good friends and that is what they usually do. They all like to be together. She feels good. The hair is going and the cheeks are chubby but the appetite are great, the insulin need is gone, the energy is back and she is sleeping like a baby.

She was in P.E. for part of the class until they started with the game where they throw balls at each other. No contact sports. I wonder if that means dances and boys? She does not seem too interested at this point. ( I do digress a bit but it is 6:30 a.m. and I am only on my first cup of coffee.) She feels great. She was ready to do the jog-a-thon but I bet the teachers will figure out a way for her to do it this week.

We are just waiting. We think we know what is coming but we don't know really what the direction will be. We know that there are high winds ahead but they might not be so bad here. They might hit the kid across the street. We know that there will be rain but the drainage might be able to handle the onflow. We just don't know. So we wait and think about what we know.

We know when it starts, we have matching overnight bags for the hospital from Landsend. MEB@Hem/ONC Hilton and SAL@Hem/Onc Hilton ( this is not a link it is a bag) We are ready. We just have to see what happens after the storm. We have to go clean up after the wind and rain and the palm trees fall down. Hopefully we have installed enough plywood and purchased enough batteries to survive.

We shall see.