I must admit, we were pretty devastated when Ernie couldn’t come home last night. All afternoon we thought it was going to happen and then at 5:00 or so they told him his neutrophil count was too low.
Not a good evening for either of us, him more than me, of course.
I spent most of today over there. He was not in a good place mentally (understandably) and we are both (me in particular) feeling frustrated by lack of coordination and communication by the 10,000 members of his medical team. I don’t even have the energy to describe how infuriated I am by the lack of assistance when all I want is to see his fucking test results.
I got him to take something for anxiety. Good old Xanax. He finally relaxed and dozed on and off. He told me he feels like he’s not even there, like he’s something shoved over in the corner. I understood what he meant. There is something so wearing and damn…I want to say dehumanizing but that’s too extreme. It doesn’t matter how wonderful the nurses and techs and doctors are (and they are by and large) you just start feeling like a stack of numbers.
I can not begin to adequately describe how much I miss him.
Bob has had to resort to being nice to me but we both know it’s not the same.
Again, thanks for all the support and kindness, including the beautiful flowers above.