Saturday, January 6, 2007

And I'm back.

In the house that I really haven't considered myself as "living" in since I was fourteen. There have been vacations, but I'm pretty sure since I left for highschool, I haven't lived here for longer than four, maybe five weeks at a time. There was one summer where I took driver's ed, which may have been the longest time period. So, basically, I've got a lot of adjusting to do to this whole "house" thing. For right now though, I am just glad to be out of the hospital. I had Domino's for dinner, and it was freaking delicious, although I'm pretty sure my cholesterol just jumped a few feet.

In terms of my health, my immune system is still mildly compromised, but really only to the point where I just need to be careful when I go to really public places. Because, I mean, I'm fine. But other people are sick. I don't really want any of their little germies. I'm still on chemo. I'm taking the steroids and the birth control pills from home. And this coming Wednesday, I get to go to the hospital clinic for two more drip chemo treatments. That will only be about an hour or two stay though. Hopefully, I shouldn't have to check back in to the hospital for any sort of extended stay at all anymore. Most of the chemo that I get to do for the next five months I'll get twice a week at the clinic. Go in, get a shot or two, come back two days later, and then I'm set for another week. It sounds tedious; I'm sure it will become tedious. But I won't be bound and gagged, waiting to be released from the white sheets and walls that had become my chains. And right now it is 10:30 p.m. Central time, and I'm going to sleep! And I won't be woken up in an hour and a half by a nurse who has to check my blood pressure and heart rate. And I don't know what time I will wake up tomorrow, but I know that it will be of my own accord, not on account of some doctor knocking on my door because he needs to make sure my lungs are still clear, I'm breathing alright, and my ankles haven't mysteriously swollen during the night. Yes, all things they check for. Every morning. But no more! So, fantastic. I'm going to sleep in flannel sheets. :-)

4 comments:

kev-kev said...

i'm so happy you get to go home, now that you've made it this far the rest should seem like a piece of cake. lemme play the role of mom here and say i'm really proud of you for being so damn strong through this crap, takes real balls/ovaries

P.s. i envy your usage of flannel sheets, i used to have a set of plaid ones, they were comfy as all hell, cherish them

Justin Hook said...

rock on, cb.

can i call you cb? that's a cool fucking handle. especially because "handles" were big in the cb radio days. get it? no? me neither.

Megan Amanda Steffen said...

I totally sleep on flannel sheets.

Confidential to kev-kev: They're called "gonads."

Confidential to Caroline: Call me, bitch, I called you while I was driving and sung the fucking Presidents of the United States of America in honor of your release.

James Tompkins said...

Hey Caroline,

I hope you had a merry Christmas at home. Word of your diagnosis made it my way through Craig to Syd to Sam to me.

Over Christmas Sam was here visiting me and Kara was here visiting Stu. April Holloway is in California visiting Chelsea Cantwell. We all kind of disappear from each other and come back together, but you know we're all thinking of you. I'm sure if and when everyone from your McGregor Bay family (and we are a family - a dysfunctional alcoholic family) finds out, that they'll be ever so supportive.

I want to offer my best wishes and I look forward to having a drink with you at the next Hylands' dance party.

Take it easy, Caroline. Drop me a comment on Facebook if you're bored. And a note on boredom... get lost in a stack of books.

McGregor Bay misses you,
Jamie