Separate checks and balances
Day minus eight, or "Friday" in the common tongue: and Karen is ongoingly sick, except for the brief windows afforded by her anti-nausea medications. Of course we expected this, and in honesty it's not as bad as my worst imaginings; but over the last twenty-four hours she's taken in nothing but water and ginger ale, and most of that has come back out again. And of course she feels lousy, and of course I can't help. My prime function here is to cook, and she doesn't want to eat. I mostly eat in the other room, so as not to upset her further.
Other people in the group are having other symptoms, but I think Karen's the only one who's still throwing up. They say it should last no more than forty-eight hours, so fingers crossed.
In other news, there is no other news. During this stage of the treatment we don't have to go anywhere; the medications she needs are brought to us here in the apartment, in the form of injections morning and evening to stimulate her stem cells and encourage them to move from her marrow to her bloodstream, where they can be more readily harvested. Also she has many pills to take, but those are here in our little blue bag, ready to be supplemented by others from the little white bag at need and on instruction. Instructions come through the cellphone we were given; we are a WhatsApp community, chit-chatting back and forth from our separate monkish cells. That's probably why it's called a cellphone, right?
There's a communal area up on the roof which is actually rather nice. Views of Popacatepetl and so forth. Karen's not up for going there just now, but hopefully in a day or two, when she's feeling better. Meanwhile I shop and work and noodle on the internets. And scratch. I have mosquito bites all up one shoulder, and it turns out that mosquito bites are itchy. They itch for days. Who knew?
Other people in the group are having other symptoms, but I think Karen's the only one who's still throwing up. They say it should last no more than forty-eight hours, so fingers crossed.
In other news, there is no other news. During this stage of the treatment we don't have to go anywhere; the medications she needs are brought to us here in the apartment, in the form of injections morning and evening to stimulate her stem cells and encourage them to move from her marrow to her bloodstream, where they can be more readily harvested. Also she has many pills to take, but those are here in our little blue bag, ready to be supplemented by others from the little white bag at need and on instruction. Instructions come through the cellphone we were given; we are a WhatsApp community, chit-chatting back and forth from our separate monkish cells. That's probably why it's called a cellphone, right?
There's a communal area up on the roof which is actually rather nice. Views of Popacatepetl and so forth. Karen's not up for going there just now, but hopefully in a day or two, when she's feeling better. Meanwhile I shop and work and noodle on the internets. And scratch. I have mosquito bites all up one shoulder, and it turns out that mosquito bites are itchy. They itch for days. Who knew?