Dear Friends and Family,
Yesterday was day two in the apartment—December 31, the last calendar day of a very, very difficult year.
A large part of our day was spent watching Jayna modeling outfits for her mom. Finally, after what seemed to be hours to me, they agreed on a certain pair of jeans, new boots, and a light-blue sweater that highlighted Jayna’s eyes and newly manicured off-blue fingernails. Shortly thereafter, Jayna gave each of us a kiss, saying “love you” as she raced out the door, leaving for a party scheduled from 2 p.m. until sometime into the wee hours of the night. Not surprising, Nancy had the satisfied look of a mother happy that her daughter was doing something normal for a twenty-one-year-old. In all honesty, I must admit I was equally thrilled as well. (And not to be forgotten, Jaret was already in Woodland, excited to watch his favorite shows on our TV, which is bigger than his.)
This year’s New Year’s Eve celebration was a bit different for Nancy and me. There weren’t any specialty drinks (or even the slightest hint of alcohol), and there wasn’t a sumptuous meal before midnight. (Nancy did tolerate two pieces of toast around noon. We even put a smidgen of butter on the second slice.)
Nancy did promise me a dance at midnight, though.
“Winnie, I want to see the ball descend in Times Square and hear ‘Auld Lang Syne’—while we are dancing.” When she made this request, I wondered if she knew that Robert Burns composed the song from a Scottish poem he had written in 1788 and that the title translates to “old times.”
Nancy’s promise to “dance the night away” was made a little over two hours ago, between taking her six bedtime pills and emptying the IV bag containing her nutritional supplement. She had expressed the idea just as I was completing the daily dressing change on her central IV line—the one that enters her body just below her left clavicle. Two days earlier, it had been a worrisome task because the site had looked red and ugly. Fortunately, the redness is almost gone now.
“Winnie,” Nancy said as she grabbed my hand the minute the dressing change was complete, “I’m not forgetting our dance tonight, but I’ve been thinking. What would someone do if they had leukemia but were alone?”
“I don’t know, Nancy. But you are definitely not alone. There’s me, Jayna, and Jaret. And then there’s your sister, and Emmy, and my sister Suzie, Janis, Mona, Julie, and Patricia. John, Fred, Anne and Bob. Sarah Anne, Joannie, June, and Marion. I could go on and on, my love. You’ve got so many helpers. There are scores of other friends just waiting for my call. I’m not even counting those far away, who have offered to help and are willing to travel to provide it.”
“But some people are alone, and I could be. Don’t you wish you were out having fun tonight?”
“I am having fun. It was a challenge tonight to get your dressing just right. And I couldn’t be happier to see that the port site looks better now.”
“Winnie, you know what I mean—the things normal people do on New Year’s Eve. I wish you could do what you want.”
“Nancy, Nancy—I am doing what I want.”
As I kissed Nancy’s beautiful bald head. I felt a prick on my lower lip. “What’s this?” I asked as my index finger rubbed the new stubble that singularly stood straight up atop her head like a lone cactus in the middle of a too-dry desert. “Are you growing hair?”
Nancy’s semi-frown transformed into a grin and she laughed out loud. Even after more than a quarter century of New Year’s Eves, I felt true tenderness in the pit of my stomach and warmth in my heart.
“Seriously, Winnie. I hope you’ll be able to enjoy things more next year.”
“And I hope to have someone healthy to enjoy them with . . .”
“Do you know what my favorite New Year’s was, Winnie? The year you, Jaret, Jayna, and I watched the Times Square ball drop during our early days in Woodland. We drank sparkling cider and Jaret was on my lap and Jayna was on yours as well. It was the first year both of them stayed up until midnight. They were so proud.”
“Well, it’s just us tonight. And while there’s no cider—I do want to watch the ball go down. And to have that dance with you when it does. If you make it, that is.”
“Sounds dreamy, Winnie. Wake me up just before midnight.”
It is now January 1, more than an hour into a brand new year. Our dance, though short, met all expectations. It ended with a Kleenex for both of us. Nancy is in bed now, with the same relaxed look on her face as when Jayna scurried out the door. It’s after midnight and we are home in our less-than-perfect apartment, without sparkling cider.
Nancy didn’t ask about my favorite New Year’s Eve.
The winner is so clear.
My favorite New Year’s ever?
Tonight.
Summary: Nancy’s CMV infection is under control and there isn’t any “hard” evidence of GVH. So Nancy was discharged two days ago and we’ve returned to our Salt Lake City apartment. She is day sixty-six post-transplant, and we have only thirty-four more days before we hit the magic one-hundred-day post-transplant milestone. Our New Year’s wish is to spend our days quietly in the apartment, with Nancy’s health improving, and then, assuming all goes well, to return to the mountains and all our friends. And finally, I would be remiss if I didn’t wish Happy New Year to you and your family.
Sincerely,
Winnie