This Machine Killed Cancer

Shayne was supposed to be released from the hospital today. We hadn’t heard from his doctor by noon, which we knew meant that his methotrexate levels weren’t low enough to go home yet. About an hour later, she came in to confirm that, no we weren’t going anywhere.

This past week has been the roughest of any yet - we met with transplant specialists and radiation oncologists and even one of the directors of the Lineberger center who explained all of the treatments and procedures that Shayne still has to endure. By Friday our heads were spinning and we were just ready to go home, but we couldn’t, so we made the best of it.

Shayne recently got a banjo and so we worked on a few songs we’ve been writing. Once we got tired of that, I did an interpretive dance of Harry Nilsson’s “Coconut,” which was quickly followed by a nap. We woke up and caught up on the latest FAIL blog, and our new favorite There I Fixed It. We tried to think of 30 different ways to shock our nurses, but quickly realized that they’ve probably seen everything.

Around dinner time my family showed up for Super Fun Saturday Night Pizza Extravaganza which included a repeat performance of Kate singing “Itsy Bitsy Spider” and then we had a round table with Jackson about “Train Track Optimization: Thomas the Tank Engine.” Then there was a healthy dose of Frappuccino + Coffee Cake (Shayne) and a nightly visit to the vending machine for Mixed Berry Fruit Snacks (Rebekah). I did a few more interpretive dances while Shayne curled up on the couch to check on what everyone else was up to today via the Facebook. In a few minutes we’ll turn on Bravo and hope to catch a new episode of “Work of Art” or watch a collection of Bubsy Berkley highlights that a friend lent us.

Almost everyday, there’s a point when one of us turns to the other and comments out loud that “this sucks,” but it is what it is… Granted I would rather be getting ready to move into our new house and/or sending Shayne off on tour, but we try to do the best with what we have.  The hospital seems a little bit like home now. We have our favorite nurses, I know where to find the linens, and we have a routine. Oddly enough when I look back on the last nine months of being in the hospital, there’s a lot of laughter and a lot of good memories and more love than just an ordinary day.