Thanksgiving~

I'm back in what has come to be our second home.
I'm sitting on the oh so familiar beige vinyl couch with a fluffy scarf around my neck and laptop, well, on my lap. Dr Kiwan says why are you always on your computer? Every time I come, you're on computer. He missed my handstands earlier, I guess.

We spent our Thanksgiving in the hospital. Most of you know this is where we'd be. Before we left, I baked some (gluten free) pumpkin pie cheesecake to bring for Dom to enjoy. I also baked some cakes and bread for our nurses and the people that make our stay comfortable: the nurse's aid, the gal that makes sure Dom gets his food orders, important people like that.

The refrigerator has become somewhat of a beast over the past six months. Somehow, in June, I owned that thing. Do you remember the front desk lady and I having a discussion about why can't I have my unopened bottles of bubbly water in the fridge for more than three days? I think I broke her.

This trip was the third (?) time there was a red target bag in exactly the same place on the door. As another family member and I unloaded on Wednesday morning, we had a discussion about the 3 day rule and the quantity of items clearly passed 3 days. She complained to the charge nurse who assured her someone would take care of it. I walked by and highlighted her complaint by pointing out that when we peeked in the bag, the contents were green. And furry.

Nothing happened.

Thanksgiving morning and the red bag lives.

How did you spend your Thanksgiving you ask? In no way is this meant for sympathy, but I spent my morning cleaning out a fridge in a hospital. Why not? I had thoughts of just throwing away the contents and leaving the bag for the owner, but when I grabbed the red bag to throw it away, it was stuck. Stuck I tell you. Some genius had thrown a bag full of poorly contained leftovers on its side and brown goo had spent, well, since JUNE creating a glue. The date on the contents was June.

See. I broke her. If I want my bottled water for a week, I guess brown goo gets months.

Thankfully, I had grabbed some latex gloves from our room. I pulled the disgusting shelf out and put it directly in the sink. Then, I found the bleach wipes. The bleach wipes in a container with a warning that it's not for babies. To illustrate the point, there was a crawling baby with flames coming out of its diaper.
It took the volume of water to fill a pool to get that shelf clean.

But that's what I did on Thanksgiving.
And I'm not sorry.

Even if a family of about 30 almost literally moved in that day. Even if they filled that fridge and left a cooler on the counter and a baby napping on the couch and food on every surface and kids sitting on the floor lining the walls. Even if I had a little girl of about seven staring at me as I made Dom's smoothie with my unapprovedbyelectricaldepartment hand blender. I smiled at her and she smiled back.

According to Dr Kiwan, who is here for Dr Carroll over the holiday, Dom is in the honeymoon period. He feels great. He should stay feeling great until about a week after the transplant. We're hoping he feels mostly great throughout the whole process.

Science corner: They used to be able to completely eradicate symptoms of host v graft. They've found that allowing a little bit of host v graft symptoms allows for less of a chance of recurrence of the cancer. Okay then. Whatever it takes.

It's a great relief to be here. Finally. We've jumped through a lot of hoops to get here. I've bitten a lot of nails. Each test of his organ function was a bit of a stress for us. The doctor is usually very serious. He's yammered off medications and expectations so many times he slips into a somewhat robotic and dry persona. He comes in head hanging low and Dom begins to panic. The fear creeps in that something's not right. Of course it's all good. His organ function is great. His CBC's are great. We know it's just one foot in front of the other, but honestly, I'll really breathe again when those baby stem cells are in and making their way to his bone marrow. Three more days. Just three more days! And once they're in, those little swimmers will take about three hours to make their way to his marrow and two weeks to en-graft.

I really wish you could have seen the Doctor play air guitar for Dom on Wednesday morning. I wish you could have seen the faces of confusion and what just happened amongst his entourage. I don't know what Dominic has tapped into with this man, but a side of him comes out that no one has seen before here. (At least that's the word on the street....)

So, maybe we'll play some punk rock on Tuesday as we surround Dominic on his new second birthday.

And, regardless of the origins of Thanksgiving, regardless of how many warm and wonderful Thanksgivings I have spent round the family table or hiking in the woods, this Thanksgiving is the best so far, because this marks a new beginning and there is so much to be grateful for.
I am planning on next year's being even better though.