Day 8: Heading Home

It’s 1:40pm and I’m on the train heading home, listening to the sounds of a baby crying, a woman humming, and a millennial on the phone discussing whether her friend is “hetero” or “heteronormative.” Speaking of said millennial, she plopped down – alone – in a section marked “for party of 3 or more” and thus separated a family of 4. The mom is next to me. I hate this millennial. Fortunately, a nice guy was sitting behind her and lifted my 50 pound suitcase onto the storage rack. My faith in humanity is quickly restored. Phew.

Mom was doing well this morning when I saw her. She has been having trouble eating, so they did a cat scan yesterday and saw that her esophagus is very sore. Like mother, like daughter! She’s on a med to help it heal, and she’s going to off the epidural today. She’ll be taking another pain medication so that will be a good transition. It was very good to leave her on a high note. It would have been harder to leave if she wasn’t having a good day. Fortunately, my brother and sister-in-law are on their way to NYC to help out Dad and be there for mom.

I started crying last night about leaving and my dad said I had done enough. Fortunately, I have a work trip to NJ in about 2 weeks so I’ll be back to visit soon. Mom said it was good for me to get home and have some normalcy again. Not sure that I’m going to particularly enjoy this “new normal” but I don’t really have much of a choice.

I will miss the wonderful people from Sloan Kettering. Sandy would come to clean mom’s room every day. She’s an amazing woman who loves my dad, so I feel good leaving him in her hands! Her nurses were all wonderful. I met an NP who handles pain. Just pain. There are techs who only put in IVs. And of course, there’s Dr. Smith – my dad dubbed him “Smitty” – who was very gentle but answered all of our questions. If you stumble upon this blog, I thank you so much, Floor 10!

So now what. Ken heads to NYC and takes over. I go home and pass out for 1.5 days. Mr T is picking me up in a few hours and I warned him I may just break down and cry since I’ve been holding it together relatively well for the past 8 days.

Dad asked me today, “What was the worst day for you?” I thought for a minute and said, “I’ve actually been focusing on the good stuff.” The good stuff includes:

  • The post-op could have been worse with complications. Mom’s doing amazingly well and is determined to go home.
  • The walk to-and-from the hospital was cathartic. On York, I would wander under the shady trees of Roosevelt University until I saw the awning of Sloan. I’d walk back on 1st Avenue to stop for dinner or snacks or whatever we needed that say at Duane Reed.
  • The outpouring of support was (and still is) wonderful. This morning, I left mom while she was visiting with Sister Maggie and another friend from ACS who does cancer advocacy. Maggie is a delight and we even managed a cordial talk about politics a bit (we tend to be on opposing teams).
  • Mr. T, of course. He kept me smiling all week.

This will be my last daily update. I’m going to be more focused on my own health now, proceeding with exploring bariatric surgery & figuring out what’s wrong with my esophagus. Apparently, I helped bring in a $50k donation this week for work so I am feeling pretty happy about that!

Keep reading, keep supporting mom, and keep being you!

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