Day 2: Paging Dr Godot

We're home. I've known since roughly 7:30 this morning we would be: When I returned to the room, monshu was eating breakfast. But, as is the way of hospitals, it was another two-and-a-half hours before this was semi-officially confirmed and another four after that before we were actually in the lobby with our bags. Serendipitously, Turtle Wife texted just as I was giving up on getting an answer from Flash Cab, asking if there was anything at all she could do for us. She readily agreed to come pick us up. Odd as it sounds, it was a way of paying her back after sending what must've been an upsetting e-mail the day before detailing how we arrived at this point.

All monshu wanted to do once we were home was smoke a cigarette and crawl into bed, which he did. I nearly fell asleep myself but pushed through in hopes of resetting my sleep schedule. The cat joined us as well and I thrilled to the normality of it all. But I felt a responsibility to put at ease all the minds I'd disquieted with my phonecalls and texts over Thursday and Friday and crept away to update friends and family. Later, I put together the dinner which the GWO had planned for Friday night and managed not to ruin it (burning my hand once and asking for further instructions less than half a dozen times).

Monday we go back. There's no intention to keep us overnight, but once we finally get a diagnosis, all bets are off. We're still depending on Thanksgiving coming off as planned even if it means I have to do all the actual cooking and are scaling down accordingly. After that, who knows? As I told him, depending on the timing of things, this could end up being the first Christmas we spend together in seventeen years.