Chilling on the stoop with Jack, peepin at fireflies.
Someone asked me tonight if I ever thought Sundays would get easier. I think with the perfect amount of benzodiazepines and other relaxing agents, I can be ok. I think the Sunday before my last treatment I will be fine.
I will probably feel triumphant.
For now, it feels like I have a boulder in the pit of my stomach. Or a few, getting knocked around and becoming like sea glass in all that acid.
We are planning to watch Nik Wallenda walk. I mean go splat. I mean walk. This guy is nutso!!!
After that, I might take a bath to try and relax. Jim cleaned the whole house today. Then, I'm going to snuggle Jack and have him probably sleep on my chest most of the night. I am going to snuggle the poop right outta that child! This has been a long week of no touching since my Leucovorin (the rescue drug which keeps me from dying by stopping the methotrexate toxicity,) means I still need to be careful. I can touch, but no kissing until 9pm Sunday. TORTURE!
Funny story, I took the Leucovorin about 6 hours late this time. I thought it was still another 24 hours to the dose! I scared the CRAP outta poor Jim. Now, he watches me take my pills like a hawk and even (sort of) jokingly makes me show him I didn't cheek them. I can't blame the guy. They told us the latest I could physically survive a late dose was 30 minutes. Oops.
Plus, Lots of kissing. As if I haven't already bragged about it so many times today!!
But just LOOK at him.