Now I don't have a return ticket, I don't know when my next trip will be. If Mom has more days like today: ravenous, strong, I don't really need to be there. But I am conscious of the time I'm missing. Conscious of the struggle between living the life that I chose, far away, and feeling the sting of regret that I chose that life.
Mom had nearly a perfect day. Physical therapy and occupational therapy in the same day; that's always the plan, but it's very seldom executed. She walked to the gym, rode the bike for ten minutes, then walked back to her room, all after doing various strength and stability exercises. She had OT in the afternoon, after a big lunch, after a big breakfast. She visited with lots of friends and took lots of naps. But by tonight, her stomach was hurting and her appetite had disappeared. Chemo kicking in. Not nausea yet (and maybe that won't come) but discomfort.
This is the start of her third round of chemo. She had one and a half rounds before she got an infection that sent her back to the hospital, they day I sent out my wedding invitations. I'm assuming I'll get another signal that it's time to go back when it is. Or I just won't be able to stand it anymore and I'll go for a long weekend. I'm definitely planning to be there for Mother's Day and planning to make a huge freaking deal about it. I am trying to create milestones for her to reach that are attainable and worth looking forward to. I was very worried that she would sort of crash after the wedding was all over and she didn't, which is very encouraging. So, now on to the next thing. On to April.