Dear Friends and Family,
During my silent period, I forgot to relate a most important fact.
So another story from our first day back in the hospital.
Each day, Dr. Morton makes his rounds during one of two time periods. Round one begins at 9 a.m. before his office hours. And round two, around 5:30 p.m. after his office workday ends. Consequently, this morning when the clock read twenty after nine, it was looking like I wouldn’t see him until the end of the day. (I didn’t mean to be impatient, but Nancy’s bone marrow report was most likely sitting atop his office desk.)
On the day of our return for hospitalization three, Nancy had once again quietly endured the big, long needle being thrust deeply into her right hip. The grinding sound, though familiar, was no less chilling even though Nancy didn’t wince or squeeze my hand any harder than the last time. But the wait seemed harder this time around, and we both wanted to know the results.
Is she still in remission?
Would Dr. Morton at least call if it were bad news?
Shouldn’t he want to call if it was good news?
I found myself repeatedly looking at the clock. When the big hand was on the four and the little one nearest the nine, I made my decision. I wouldn’t wait until after his workday. I wanted to know now.
I decided to sneak out into the hall so that Nancy wouldn’t know I was worried. And if the results weren’t favorable, then I could figure out how to deliver disappointing news. My concern was caused by the fact that the day before the test, Nancy had seemed tired. And two days before that she bled slightly while flossing her teeth. (My teeth bleed too, but I don’t have leukemia.) But before I could put my plan into action, there was a familiar knock on our door at twenty-two minutes after nine.
“Hi, Nancy, how is my most boring patient today.”
Nancy awakened quickly. “I’m fine, Dr. Morton. How are you?” Nancy and the “Captain” connected with big, warm grins.
I didn’t smile. I wanted the news first.
“Well, first off I want to tell you about your bone marrow. There was no leukemia. That’s exactly what I hoped for—and expected. But it’s always nice to get that report. What do you think of that, Winnie?”
I didn’t speak. I was certain he could read my beaming face.
I’m still smiling. After two weeks in the hospital, our second home, things are so far, so good.
Summary: We are amid hospitalization three and have fantastic news. The bone marrow test Nancy endured for this round confirms that she is still in remission.
Thanks for your thoughts and prayers and for continuing to remember us,
Winnie