Here’s a photo of Cliff at 9:00 this morning …
… and here’s a photo of Cliff at 9:00 this evening.
I picked my sister up from the airport this morning. No drama. At least no real ones. Just ones Isabelle created herself by getting into a massive argument with a steward during the flight and then feeling compelled to file a formal complaint with the airlines when she landed. By the time she arrived at the baggage carousel her bags had been moved into storage. Took me two and half hours to collect her. I don’t know why I’m surprised. I know her.
The boys were excited to see her though (and the gifts she brought) and she valiantly fought off jet-lag to mind them after school. Quite sweet.
While she looked after the kids, Cliff and I went to the hospital to admit him for an overnight stay to get blasted with cisplatin and alimta; the chemo drugs for mesothelioma. This is palliative chemo they tell us, not curative.
Jessica Houghton, our dear, dear friend whose children attend the same school as ours, and Monique, Cliff’s sister, both came in to the hospital to be with us for part of the afternoon. In Cliff’s private hospital room we received 90 minutes of chemo training and safety information. The World’s Most Wonderful Nurse, Brad Cransky, taught us how to ‘do’ chemo properly. In between breaks for my tears and near-vomit-head-between-the-knees-get-some-blood-to-the-brain-and-stop-the-room-from-spinning-while-I-try-to-slow-down-the-breathing-so-it’s-effective breathers, we learned how best to keep Cliff safe during and after the chemo treatments. I was also given instructions on how to keep our children and myself safe from this essential poison we are so grateful for and loathe so much.