The Morning After

It is the morning after Mac's most recent trip to Iowa City. He has more medications to take. He is back on prednisone. A very high dose for awhile. His liver showed problems in the blood tests. I am not surprised as his eyes looked jaundiced this last week and I started him on milk thistle. The whites of his eyes went back to white but the DR. did not seem happy with my actions. Too bad, I had to do something and it apparently helped. It was the same with asking questions and just getting comments. I need a conversation. At least I know enough to get more proactive. I will keep Mac on the milk thistle and we will try to push some clear fluids. He has a real problem with clear fluids. For one ..... they are clear. They have no bubbles. If it is going to be clear and have no bubbles then the fluid should at least be, well, intoxicating.

Too bad.

I am exhausted this morning. Feel like I have been run through the wringer. The only thought that buoys my spirits is the idea of going to the greenhouse and looking at tomato plants. I am thinking about bordering the vegetable garden with marigolds this year. It would be costly. It would be a LOT of marigolds, but it's a happy thought. Marigolds have nothing in common with Dr. coats. They don't have the smell of antiseptic hanging on them. Though it is hard to define that weird marigold smell. Tomatoes also have a singular smell when you brush up against the plant. To me it is the smell of GREEN!!!

Smells are important.

Green seems like a good place to hide. It is a restful color. It is a good place to retreat to when you have to think for too long of the graft vs. host. It is spreading over the bottoms of Mac's feet. It looks like eczema from hell. It appears that this might be a lifetime condition. Mac might need to see the transplant specialist forever.... eternal follow up. I have to wonder if there are enough tomatoes and marigolds to hold me up through this process, stretching out in front of us. I will hope that he comes to some place in his own mind where he can find the thing that gives him.... I don't know how to describe it.... gusto? Excitement in life? He doesn't seem happy very often. He should be happy.... he's alive. I cling to the idea that this will be 'OUR YEAR". The year that Mac finds his joy. The year I get a handle on the money issue. The year where our course runs true.

It is the morning after a visit to the Dr. in Iowa City. I am exhausted. But I am not having rage. I am not having fear. That is a real head start over most morning afters. There is nothing wrong with me that some tomatoes, some marigolds and some horsey time won't fix.

Louie