I can't sleep.
This isn't unusual, and when it is the night before going into the hospital, it's a given. But tonight, rather than being awake because of sadness that we're going in, or stress that I haven't packed the right things or worry that I'm forgetting something that needs to be taken care of here at home ... rather than any of that kind of wakefulness, it is a different sort.
Excitement. Happy excitement.
Tomorrow is Little Warrior's last scheduled chemo hospitalization.
(Didja notice how I put in that word "scheduled" as kind of a mitigating sort of thing, so that I wouldn't have to go through the whole list of my superstitious ramblings, in fear of setting off some kind of bad luck? Ah what the hell ...)
PLEASE GOD, KNOCK WOOD, THANKYEWJESUS!
Now, there are certainly things that could change this, like if her counts suddenly nosedived, or they don't have a room, or ... well, that last "or" is one we don't want to think about, isn't it?
But hopefully, all will be well. Her counts will be up, a room will be available ...
And cancer will be over.
Little Warrior has been talking about this, nearly since we started. "On Halloween, cancer will be over."
If all goes well, we'll get out of the hospital on Friday. Halloween.
This week, my dad looked at her, running around like your average jet-propelled 3 year old and said, "You know, maybe we should just believe her. On Halloween, cancer will be over."
I have had the occasion recently of worrying about the baby of one of my blogfriends. Her situation is different from mine; I can offer no wisdom, no tips, only, "I am thinking of you."
So you see, I've had a taste of what you have had. For six months now, you have cared. And 2 years before that.
Thank you. I know how your heart can hurt for someone you've never actually met.
I know that even in the absolute best case scenario, nothing will be clean cut. I will not come home, unpack the bags I've been hauling for 6 months, have a good shake, and get back to normal life.
There are things to be processed. Questions to be answered. Little Warrior's immune system won't be up to snuff for about a month. I know it will take my emotional immunity longer to regain its strength.
LW has scans the week before Thanksgiving. Her first "off-treatment" scans. And if those are clear, then every 3 months.
But now, tonight, I am allowing myself to be hopeful.
Still and all, though ... I really need to get to sleep.