The tide is starting to turn

Gil's symptoms are quieting down as we head into the neutropenic (very low immune system) period of a week or so. It feels somehow as though the myeloma dragons are weakening. His lungs are sounding clearer and though he had intense night sweats last night, he didn't have them during the aft/eve yesterday or this morn. The hot spot of pain is quieting, though there are other new pains that can be quite strong but shift around.

His red blood and platelets are still rock bottom despite transfusions but *good news* his creatinine (kidney function) is better than it's been in years. Cytoxin is known for clearing kidneys but has also knocked Gil into diabetes though he should no longer need insulin once everything settles down.

My intuition is that, though everything is still precarious for the next couple of weeks, he will get a bounce and a chance to find a new maintenance chemo for the next phase.

We have gone through so many crisises in the last 14, 15 years that crisises have become way too familiar, and in a macabre way, comfortable, I'm embarrassed to admit. I want to try to handle myself a little differently this time 'round. I am trying to be a little less stoic and to allow all the generous hearts around us to give what they are moved to give. I'm looking at "what is", my human strengths and weaknesses and Gil's, as what we have to play with this lifetime, and the support we've been gifted with as a resource to be used not wasted. My son David would get on my case about being all airy fairy, but this feels like a real perspective shift that may be the gift (there's always a gift) of this pain. I try not to wax too philosophic on these blogs, but there is something to be said for feeling the reality of death; it sure makes simply breathing an incredible feast. I just hope we can both hold on to it if we get another chance at normal life.

enough, more later