I'm in the midst of my second weekend leave from GF Strong, the Vancouver physical rehab centre. Getting to hang out with Carol-Ann on our couch in front of our TV in our basement filled with our sports mementos inspires me to work even harder, to get healthier sooner. It also depresses me, knowing that we have to pack everything up in a few hours and head back to GF Strong for another five-day stretch.
We had our team meeting this week, where you sit down with doctors and various therapists and talk about progress and discharge date. I was hoping to be home by the end of April. The doctors and therapists pointed toward sometime in late May. They said that they felt I could be safe at home by the end of April, but wondered if I wasn't shortchanging myself on rehab.
The belief, amongst everyone that we've encountered, is that I can get back to somewhere close to where I was before this all happened. In basic terms, the expectation is that I'll walk out of GF Strong under my own power. Considering we've dealt with a Solitary Plasmacytoma tumour, 20 radiation sessions, a collapsed T-2 vertebrae, two different surgeries where they put rods and screws into my back and a whole whack of infection, the prognosis could be much worse.
It's hard. Outside of these two little sojourns, I have been in hospital since late November. I miss Carol-Ann like crazy. But she also deserves a husband who is as capable as he can be. But rehab is largely mental and emotional at this point, too.
What to do? What to do?
To the credit of the people at GF Strong, they're trying to come up with a plan to make this work. They're looking into what can be done as from an outpatient situation.
I don't know. To quote my good buddy Bif Naked (shameless name drop...always improves my mood), "Life is interesting." Of course, it's much more interesting, as it were, when Bif says it. That's just how she rolls.
This week, we take more steps forward. We have been cleared for pool time, which I found hugely beneficial back in the early stages of THE CANCER. I go see my plastic surgeon, Dr. James Boyle, and have a check-up with him.
The biggest worry for me, to be honest, is that our cat, Figaro, has to have surgery on Tuesday to combat a weepy eye. I'll be focussed on that.
Life really is interesting.