A Place To Call Home: Five Days Of Treatment, Two Nights Solo Camping On The Coast Of California, and One Book
So, where do I dive in?
Will it be at my decision have a port placed, the moment that I realized that in order to heal, both mentally and physically, I need to be my own best advocate for my health and goals, or the packing of bags, hanging of twinkly lights, and finishing of a book my grandfather wrote? A book that changed the course of this trip quite drastically.
Or why not dive in right now?
After all, now is when I'm writing this post and now is when much of this is and the importance of the post is coming to light. So, let's take a look at today. It started off with an aching stomach, but was comforted when I rolled over and found my dog curled up snoring, as loud as ever. I stayed in bed awhile, hands placed mindfully on my stomach, doing my best to ease the discomfort I was feeling. By this time, Adam was up getting himself some coffee. I had IV's at 8:30 am, which gave me less than an hour to eat and get ready, slimming the chances of me being on time; I drowsily stumbled into my office, the light streaming in waking me up just ever so slightly, making the packing of books, computer, and whatever else I might need to keep me busy while I receive fluids a little bit easier.
It's 8:27am and I'm out the door, which gives me 3 minutes to get to the clinic that is 10 minutes away. Which turns out, is not possible!
Once I apologize for being late, nestle into my chair, wrap myself in a blanket, and am hooked up to what will be my 8th IV under the PK Protocol, I get out my computer to work a little, but find that my head is begging me to rest, so I listen. Eyes closed, I find that my mind wanders to this blog post and the adventure behind it...