First day home
I’m home today and doing pretty well. Only thing that is bothering me is the intense itching from the Demodex. I’ve been applying witch hazel to my face and chest but it still wasn’t enough. I asked Jeffrey about the cream at around 3:00 and he said “oh yeah, that’s probably at Walgreens.” I think my evil stare was enough because he ran out to get it. He also picked up a giant Kit Kat for Dr. Vasu for the bet I lost when in the hospital. We will give it to her Thursday. I was convinced I had jaundice. I did not.
Instead of sitting here focusing on how much I want to claw my face off I attempted to prepare a slide for Xander’s microscope so we could entertain ourselves with pictures of mommy’s face bugs. Between the witch hazel and Metro Gel 1% I can’t find anything to scrape off to look at. I need oil as a carrier but I have no skin oil. Being at home I don’t have someone checking me every hour and telling me my blood test results daily to tell me how I’m doing. Instead I have to go by how I feel.
It was so nice to be in my bed last night. I think I slept on top of Jeffrey all night. I’ve spent the last month alone so a warm body was extra comforting. We have to keep the door to the bedroom closed to keep the cats out and it creates an inferno in our room according to Jeff. Amira had a rough time because she slept in our room the whole time I was gone and last night she had to sleep in her bed. She did go to bed but it took 20 minutes of screaming. Poor girl.
I slept until 9:00 am when my Lauren sitter for the day, Carolyn, woke me up for meds and to drink a protein shake that Amira prepared for me before she went to school. I was up for a few minutes and then went back to sleep until noon. Carolyn made me lunch of chicken and green beans and I started thinking of getting up for the day. I took a shower but getting up didn’t actually happen until Jeffrey was home at 3:00. I moved from the bed to the couch. I’ll start PT again next week but I’ll need to do something for exercise. It’s too damn cold to go outside.
It is always emotionally difficult coming home from the hospital after a long stay. The hospital is it’s own little world and the institution takes over. I become a passive player and do what I’m told (most of the time). I don’t even think in depth about the experience until it’s over and I realize how horrid it was. And I cry coming home. It’s overwhelming. I take a moment and have a good pity party for myself for the month I lost in trade for a cure. If it works of course it is worth it. If it doesn’t work I am beat down.
Three flights from Tucson to Columbus are being booked as my friends and my dad take turns coming out to take care of me. Mostly I just want to see them but I’m supposed to have someone with me for the first 100 days just in case.