The sunsets are often spectacular from Rehab room 305 but I can’t say that I’ll miss them. The evening glow flooding into the room causes me to reflect on the past 2+ months and simultaneously fills my heart with thanksgiving.
Early in this journey, Beth’s survival was measured hour by hour. Eventually we allowed ourselves to go day by day then stretched that into week by week only to have bumps along the way make us wonder how can she possibly survive this hell.
What a tough person Beth is. I’ve often thought how in the world can she stand this. How can she not just give up. How can she tolerate one more finger stick, blood draw, CT scan, surgery, vomiting episode, headache, seizure, muscle spasm, infection, MRI, and so on and so on and so on. Her survival instinct is strong. Clearly she’s got some living to get back to!
I can’t wait for Beth to get home tomorrow to her beloved dogs and her own bed. I’m not naive enough to think that there won’t be challenges ahead for Beth as well as for us, but I’ve seen what Beth’s made of and it bodes well for her future. Just one more sleep, my friends, and tomorrow is day 64.
