neyronrose (neyronrose) wrote,

Wednesday so far

Tile guys here to put in tiles around the bathtub.  Dad let them in.  I heard noises now and then -- talking, singing, whistling, but pretty much stayed asleep until Mom gave me a wake-up call.  I took my sponge bath (and was very grateful the water wasn't shut off), dressed, and ate brunch.  I opened the door between garage and house to see that the tile folks had stuff all in and around the garage, and their van open just about where the paratransit bus would come.  I said to the tile guy out there that the paratransit bus would be coming between 2:15 and 2:30.  He looked at his watch and said they'd back the van up then.  It was 2:00 at that point.

I maneuvered the wheelchair around all the pails and cords and equipment and whatever in the garage and driveway to sit outside the garage at 2:15.  I saw the paratransit bus come, continue down the street onto another street, then heard it turn around.  I got myself in the wheelchair, pulling along the walker, down to near the bottom of the driveway, and it's a steep driveway.  The paratransit bus came around up the other street, and went into a cul-de-sac that's another street yet.  When he eventually came out of that cul-de-sac, I waved frantically.  He saw me, and asked what the house number was.  "[House number]," I said, pointing to the number on the mailbox.

"I didn't see that at all," he said.  He pulled me backwards over the steep bump from the bottom of the driveway to the gutter, holding the wheelchair so I was nearly horizontal and clinging to the armrests.  I got to physical therapy at 2:50, when I'd had a 2:45 appointment, so it wasn't that bad, just nerve-wracking.

It was relatively quiet at physical therapy -- a few patients there, but two therapists and the assistant.  The physical therapist said I should get Vitamin E cream and rub it into my scar a couple of times a day.  I'm supposed to do little circles with my thumb to try to loosen up the scar and get it so it will be more flexible.

Mom got home before I did, and called to see if I wanted a ride home.  It was 4:30 by that point, so I said I'd just wait for my 4:45 pick-up.  The paratransit bus came at about 4:50 or 4:55, which wasn't bad.

Aunt A. called.  She wanted to talk to Mom or Dad.  She told Mom that the cancer had spread to her lungs, and that she didn't want more chemotherapy or radiation.  Apparently chemo or radiation might drag it out for six more months.  In A's opinion, it would just reduce her quality of life that much more, and she'd rather just go peacefully.  Mom cried a lot.  I think I'm just numb at this point.  Aunt A. is planning on coming to Grandma S.'s birthday, so we'll see her then, and I'd like to go up to northern New Jersey to visit her as we can.  She was trying to wait to tell us until after the birthday party, but decided she'd better call.

Tags: family, medical

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