dropping temps and snow with a chance of isolation 
hubby and i just got back from our thanksgiving trip, which i hoped would be his triumphant return back to normal society. hubby would return to the scene, have a dashing good holiday, and everything would start falling into place in our post-transplant lives.
the return was slightly less than triumphant.
before i go further, hubby had an incredibly rough few days last monday, tuesday, and wednesday, and everyone expected that he would be a bit tired. i had even purchased a mini-thanksgiving meal for the two of us in case he didn’t feel like traveling. in spite of his marrow aspirate (mon), chemo catheter removal (tues), and final lumbar puncture (wed), he handled the trip from baltimore to waldorf really well and got up raring to go to my parents’ home. the actual holiday went okay, which i guess i should be thankful for.
from there, things went downhill fast. hubby’s cold that was all but gone when we left baltimore returned with a vengence. he slept most of the rest of our visit, in and out, prompting great concern within my immediate family (suffice it to say that my remarks of “he does that sometimes, no worries,” did not go over so well).
my father is not southern-born but is learning fast, and there are not many accomplishments that he prides himself more than his barbeque recipes. one of dad’s most requested recipes is his barbequed potatoes, which hubby requested for dinner during his visit. given hubby’s digestive tract record lately, i should have played the role of “barbeque-potato nazi”–”NO POTATOES FOR YOU!!!” hindsight is twenty-twenty: hubby valiantly tried to eat the meal that my father had slow-cooked all afternoon, then the meal made its second appearance of the evening about a half-hour later in the living room.
in the midst of all of this, my parents are concerned that i’m too hard on hubby–i’m starting to think that i did my job as caregiver too well. he is content to sleep on the couch and have me bring him his meds, drinks, etc. when i started to tell him to get these items for himself, the protests made on hubby’s behalf were stridant. today, i drove the entire distance from my parent’s place to north carolina (5.5 hours on I-95 on the busiest travel day of the year)–hubby slept. we got back, i unloaded the car on my own and carried all of our bags up the stairs to our second story apartment–hubby laid down. i attempted to unpack and straighten up a bit (did i mention that everything that we moved from baltimore last wednesday is still chucked in our living room and guest room?)–hubby slept. this pattern continues to this very minute (i had to escape for a few minutes to preserve my sanity).
there are times when i am extremely thankful for hubby’s outpatient transplant program, and times when i don’t think that it’s such a hot idea. right now, the latter is true. i wish that he was either inpatient at a hospital or that we were back in baltimore. he isn’t exhibiting any negative symptoms, but the extreme fatigue really isn’t supposed to present this late in the game, and it’s scared me shitless. i have to wake him and remind him to take his meds on schedule, and to try and eat. on top of all of the housework and unpacking. and i go back to work full-time on tuesday. i feel like i imagine a new mom must feel leaving her child to go back to work for the first time after birth.
as much as they tried, my family didn’t help much. my attempts to remind hubby that he “needs to be more self-sufficient, starting on tuesday, i’m not going to be around for a large chunk of the day” were met with, “oh, but he doesn’t feel good! you need to take care of him!” the seed of doubt was planted and now i worry about whether i am being a total bitch to my husband right when he is feeling poorly.
happy fucking holidays.
