Today is Nommie’s first yahrzeit (anniversary of his death). That means that as of tomorrow, it will have been a year since our cross country move. It has been quite a year, in so many, many ways.
Neither David nor I had mentally prepared ourselves for the prospect of making the move with only Xena Malka. I was still grieving Dancer. We knew Nommie was skeletal and had not dealt well with Dancer’s death, but we had gotten used to Nommie taking a U-turn before hitting death’s door. I don’t think either of us considered that the move would be any different. Until it was.
Ultimately, I believe Nom Nom made the right call, opting out of the move. It was too much of an ask from us and I am glad that he spared himself the trauma of the travel. Something I understand too well these days.
In my recent quests for hydration, I have travelled to both my doctor’s office and the local hospital. I ended up miserable after both infusions because the car rides were just way too painful for me. But I needed the hydration, so I just did what I had to do.
Today, I got my first infusion of fluid at home. Unlike my TPN or enteral feed, the fluid is infused by gravity. That means no wandering freely with a backpack. I have to hang the fluid from an IV pole and ideally keep myself lower than the bag.
My nurse warned me that it could take up to 4 hours to get a liter of fluid into me. That would be 4 hours where I would be essentially tied to an IV pole, with accommodations available so I could carry the bag to the bathroom if necessary. At least today, it only took an hour and a half. And no miserable car ride afterwards!
I had been going for the ultimate in health care decadence: having Xena Malka on my lap while I was being infused. She denied me that glory, but I did get some attention after David disconnected me. The quantity of fur on my lap attests to that.
The consensus amongst my doctors seems to be that I am having a flare and that is why I am struggling so much to retain my fluids. I am consistently inconsistent and it is getting to be a bit much. Some days I vent out everything I drink in the morning, but can retain whatever I drink in the afternoon/evening. Others are just the reverse. And then there are days like today, where I can vent out 250ml of fluid (mostly bile) before I drink anything. But then retain my tea. Go figure.
Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes
