I'm in a cold, empty house right now. I'll get back to why it's cold and empty in a second, but let's start from the top.
I've been having a rough go of it lately. The nausea isn't going away, and last night I had one of the largest (volume-wise) bouts of vomiting I can recall in a long while. Caity had the unfortunate timing of needing to go to the washroom just as I was needing to puke so I chose the next best thing, the kitchen sink. There is nothing worse than picking out the big chunks from the drain of a kitchen sink, so I advise that if you need to puke, choose another receptacle to deposit your vomit.
Anyway, Caity and I decided that enough was enough and went to the hospital today. They ran the standard blood work, and this time I stood my ground and basically said to the Doctor that I was not well, and I wanted something done about it. So now I've got to collect my poop, and send it to the lab. I've also got an appointment with a G.I. scope (camera up the bum) as well as possibly a camera down the throat. I really hope they wash it first. If they do the two cameras at once, I'll see if I can get them to take a picture of the one camera with the other camera in my small intestine. It will be like the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel only inside my G.I. and with camera snakes instead of fingers.
So now, I'm on the same anti-nausea medication that they give patients DURING CHEMOTHERAPY, and it seems to be working slightly. I'm also down below my lowest hospital weight. I've been trying to eat for the past four days, but for all my hard work, I just keep slipping away. Our scale (which Caity bought last Wednesday) tells me that I'm skinnier than what I used to weigh in high school. I've gone from being a 220 pound man who can squat 600 pounds to a 175 pound man who breathes heavy at the top of my house's single flight of stairs. On the upside, the doctors at the Tom Baker don't think it's graft vs. Host. They don't understand why this nausea is still lingering but at least the testing process has started. It's probably a silly little problem with my intestines that can be fixed up in no time, but I'm finding it difficult to be patient while they figure out what's wrong. I know that a couple of weeks doesn't sound too bad, but I've had nausea or fatigue, or diarrhea or all three at once for the past six months straight. I know that I joked in an earlier journal entry that the transplant process would be like a bad flu for six months. Well, I'm almost at the six month mark, and I feel worse that when I left the hospital. I now understand that this is not a joke. There is nothing funny about what I'm going through, and I'm running out of ways to find this life acceptable. I was actually hoping to be back to my old self by July 1st. Now, I'm just hoping that I can have a couple of days off from the hell that I currently live in. That brings me to the cold empty house.
Caity packed up the kids and the dogs and took them to Canmore. She said that I needed a vacation from all the stress of life, and even though it broke my heart, I have to agree that I could probably use the rest. I wish there was a happy medium that would allow me to spend time with my kids and then go away when I need to, but with twins, everyone is on the go, all the time. I am also not very good at sitting down and watching others take care of my kids.
So, I'm sitting at home, just me and the cats. The house is surprisingly low on baby furniture, since we stuffed everything into the Ford Focus just in case Caity is out there for longer than a few days. It's amazing how much we can stuff into a station wagon. Right now, Caity is in the car with two carseats, 3 bags of clothes, two baby swings, an Exersaucer, a Jumperoo, two 60 pound dogs, two high chairs, two baby backpack carriers, a double breast-feeding pillow, a full-size playpen and numerous small bags filled with baby feeding supplies. I used to laugh at my sister-in-law for hauling around so much baby crap, but I now understand why she did it. Every piece of baby equipment gives you one more option to entertain a fickle 7 month old. You can only play peek-a-boo for so long before you need a break, and if a large plastic saucer will distract the kid for half an hour, you do whatever it takes to get that half an hour. If it means that you don't have room to bring a change of clothes for yourself, then that's what you do.
Anyway, I'm going for a nap. I don't have to worry about any feedings, crying, or any other distractions so I can sleep as long as I want. On the other hand, no one will be there to smile at me when I wake up, so I'm not sure if I got the better part of this deal. I already miss my babies and my wife terribly, but I've got to take this time and get some rest so that Caity's efforts will not have been in vain. If you're reading this in Canmore Caity, I want you to know that I love you with all of my heart, and I wish there was a way that I could thank you for giving me the break that I need. I miss you so much, and I wish there was another way to do this.
When you get home, I want some SERIOUS baby-daddy time.
I love you so much.
Adam
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