Bitter sweet

Chris has finally been admitted to Johns Hopkins. After three days of reaching out to people who we thought could help get him where he needed to be, he was picked up from Union last night at 9 pm and deposited in what he describes as better than his apartment. He's brighter; mind you sitting in a hospital bed for five nights waiting for something to happen will lead to simple pleasures. The past few days have been a stark contrast to seven years ago. We stumbled on egos and bureaucracies this time, whereas the system worked so smoothly last time. Our past experience with Chris's health was an education, but I was still not prepared for the delays we banged into this time. It is reassuring that the medical professionals we reached out to were prepared and willing to support us, but it is distressing to think that we needed to be experienced this time to get him where he needs to be. However, a whole new tool has been added to our tool box; without prompting Katie found the answer and should we not have had any success in our search, Katie did.

This tumor has reared its ugly head at a very inconvenient time. Last time it was the summer and Chris had just started his break, Phil and I worked for ourselves and it was easy for me to be absent from the office and possible for Phil to spend many hours in both places. This time Chris is in his final semester at JHU, panicked that he will not graduate in May and may lose a whole year. He missed an interview with Yale this passed Thursday and stands to miss one with Hopkins this coming Thursday. Both Phil and I are employed by different companies; Phil was behind with the work before this started and I worry about the stress level he will face when he returns. I wonder if I'll even have a job once all this is over, having just found one that I want to retire from. The people are wonderful but I'm not sure they will be able to wait for my return.

When Chris was diagnosed with cancer the first time, one of the initial questions I asked was how. I look back on the seven years he had without cancer devoid of the self inflicting torture of a mother who felt that her child’s sickness must have been her fault. I see that I have lost focus on how to be prepared physically to fight incidents like this and have come to realize, yet again, that we can give ourselves a chance against illness if we eat for it. Christopher's diet has been sorely lacking and I’ve found a new determination to figure out a way to balance the needs of a palate and immune system.