Won't Be Long Now...

Tuesday will soon be upon us, and we'll be revisiting all the details, warnings, concerns and questions, when we meet with our Dr. Craig. I've been working feverishly to put a Volunteer Schedule together, all the while pinning my hopes on Tony being admitted to hospital during first few weeks of Transplant.

Visits with our Dr. Craig bring about a funny mix of emotions. First and foremost, we're always very pleased to see him. He's a kind, caring and extremely likable guy. Having said that, I'm reminded of a brief moment in time that left a lasting impression, and sums up Dr. Craig in a nutshell.

While Tony and I were waiting to see Dr. Craig, which can sometimes be a very long wait, I strolled back into the chemo area where cancer patients sit in their big recliners, tethered to a bag of poison, dripping into their veins. As I made my way down the long room, I glanced over to see a gentleman leaning against the window, next to his wife; a chemo patient. Beside her, sitting in a chair, leaning toward her, elbows gently resting on his thighs, with a look of "I care about you and want to help get you better" sat Dr. Craig. He was truly focused on every word she was saying. I wished I had a camera at that moment, but will have to be content with the memory etched on my brain.

The care shown so tenderly to that frail looking woman, and our Tony, is worth its weight in gold, while plodding through this unpleasant world of cancer. Michael Craig has clearly been a gift to us, and especially to Tony. I don't believe there's anything he could recommend that we wouldn't consider in Tony's best interest, because we know at the heart of the matter is M.Craig's genuine kind and caring soul.

How he manages to see patient after patient, juggle a schedule that would physically wipe out any human being, and still manage to be always on top of things, with the added touch of his contagious giggle, is beyond me. He's definitely an inspiration and a God-send!

It's becoming painfully obvious to me that I'm not at all comfortable asking friends, family and parishioners to step into our maddening world to give so much of their time. What I didn't realized till the Cancer Center called this week, was.... on the days between scheduled appointments, Tony will have to be taken to the Transplant Unit. This means Tony essentially has to be at the Unit every day, for one reason or another. The visit could last an hour, or it could stretch out to 6, 7 or 8 hours. The thought of trying to explain all the ups, downs, ins, outs, rights and wrongs to anyone whose not experienced life in the world of Cancer, seems a rather daunting task.

Were I too feel completely comfortable with a full roster of volunteers, and their understanding of what's needed of them, I still wonder how I'll manage: school full time, studying, homework, caretaking, tending to pets, keeping the house in order, having enough brain matter left to sort out anything that comes along, and find an ounce of peace-of-mind.

The calendar full of volunteers is based on one option... The Best Case Scenario. If engraftment doesn't happen within the normal range of time, there's no way I forsee recruiting volunteers for an additional, yet undetermined period of time. sigh.... I shant think of anything less than Best Case Scenario, but is this like burying one's head in the sand?

At present, the weeks we need volunteers have been filled in fairly well. Of course, this all depends on the final approval of the volunteers. Then again, if we find out on Tuesday that Tony will be admitted to the hospital, then all the long hours of coordinating people with dates will be tossed out the window. In spite of this, one hopes the Insurance Company will get on with letting us know what the decision is. If we have to move mountains, we'll do it... starting at the headquarters of the ECUSA in NYC, then work our way down to the headquarters of the Diocese of WV.

Ah well.... must get ready for church. More later.