The #1 Rule Is Now Hand Washing....

Between old work buddies and extended family swinging by for visits the house has been hopping. It has been fun to have everyone around and it makes Daddy smile. But all the ins and outs has now taught me to be more of a strict dictator of sorts. The germs really could have come from anywhere. I could have even brought them home from the grocery store. But remembering the one group that whisked by with hugs and kisses.....and then sat on the couch hacking, sharing cough drops and commiserating about their autumn colds and bronchitis issues.... does make me wonder. It makes me wonder what in the world they were thinking. It makes me wonder why I never thought to demand that everyone who walks through the door needs to wash and use sanitizer before touching Daddy.
Shoulda' coulda' woulda' right?

Yesterday Daddy started in with a low grade fever and a sore throat. Phone calls, constant watch on my end, hospice visits; those things all determined last night that we should go to ER and get some lab work done just to be safe. 60 miles of driving and 5 hours of waiting for lab work and assessments got us back home at 2:30am. They decided that his white cell count is still in a good range. The chemo does compromise his immune system but the high cell count means that he can still fight off germs. Here is a big impressive medical word to learn: he is not neutropenic.

So at 3am I had Daddy settled in for the remainder of the night, cleaned up after the dogs and curled up on the couch with a small bowl of cereal for my hungry tummy. Sleep hit quick and merciful.

6am the dogs wanted out....again.

7am Daddy's peg tube site began leaking like crazy again. It is a subject I haven't broached here for the consideration of readers with shaky constitutions but suffice it to say it has caused a deal of concern and fast feet on my end with the unpredictable times it chooses to act up.

7:30am Lil' grandpa Jito dog started up with his altziemers confusion and barking. His little arthritic hips where stumbling him all over the floor and his enlarged heart was making his breathing whistle but he was so happy to see me. By that time I was really feeling the signs of needing sleep. As I tended to him I clearly had a picture in my head of what an excellent torture instrument he would be in a sleep deprivation study. The urge was really strong in me to mix him a yummy bowl of can food and a bottle of benadryl and just tell Daddy his body finally gave out. Sigh....I think the more sick Daddy gets the more he feels for that little fuzzball. It is like they are a representation of each other getting through their days.

Later....
It is now going on 5pm. We had a couple of visits today and that was nice. Hospice came by to check on us. Daddy is very tired. He still has a low grade fever and sore throat. I was kind of feeling stir crazy this morning and asked someone to come sit with him for a couple of hours but they were already tied up. It is okay. A nice long shower washed away much of the blahs and I will get out in the next couple of days.


Father God, even today I thank You. I thank You because I know You are here and each day is filled with Your purpose and destiny. I thank You because You smile and hold me through all of the patches that throw me by not fitting into my own expectations.