It’s the day before the op. Husband is sitting looking much more relaxed than for his first transfusion. They started at 8 am and finished about 5 pm (bit of a wait for the platelets, probably having a speedy jaunt up the motorway on a rather nice motor bike).
It’s weird waiting for something you really want (because it’s so important) but wish you didn’t have to have (because it could kill you). I play through the odds again in my head – pointlessly – what will be will be. We’ve been waiting for what seems an age (nearly 4 months seems a long time when you know you have cancer) but now the operation is looming we’re rushing to try to get ready.
Family came to stay last week and this. It was wonderful to see them and a great lift for Husband. We are really behind in simple things like trying to leave the house fairly clean before we go away (the hospital is some drive away so I’m taking the dog to a Travelodge).
The house will have to stay as it is – could be worse but it’s not as I would like to leave it. Perhaps I’m just trying (and failing 🙂 ) to control the small things within my sphere of influence, to give myself the illusion of being able to do something but the hospital did say to try to keep the house as clean as possible.
Husband is being quietly courageous, a crappy thing to have to be. He knows it’s a big operation and that while he should survive it because he’s otherwise so strong and healthy, there are no guarantees.