It's now Friday and Mark has been home since Wednesday afternoon. Sebastian and I were so very excited to bring Daddy home as we had both worked tirelessly the night before to make everything spick and span. Sebastian swept and cleaned, emptied the dishwasher and packed away toys. We ate dinner at 8pm and Seb never complained that dinner was 2 hours late!
Next day, Seb and I attended swimming lessons first as I knew it would take some time before the hospital would have everything ready for Mark to leave. We waited for what seemed to be an eternity until finally everything had been finalised, his staples removed, medication allocated and Radiotherapy booked. It was time to go home after 12 long days in hospital!
The walk to the car was a short one, as was the drive home. We pulled up in the carport and decided to enter the house via the back door as there are only a few steps to manage. Mark seemed unusually quiet and the excitement of coming home seemed to disappear. We went inside and we showed him his new healing haven. He nodded and smiled but said little. I made us all some lunch and then put Sebastian down for his afternoon sleep. Mark still distant, he also decided to have a lie down in his new room.
The house was quiet and I didn't hear from either of the boys all afternoon. I worked frantically on paying bills and sorting out various other affairs until nearly 4.30pm when Sebastian finally awoke from his deep afternoon nap with Mark surfacing half an hour later. He explained that he had the deepest two hour sleep that he had had in weeks and I hoped he would feel a little better and be a little brighter.
The boys went outside and played with remote control cars but it was not long before Mark wanted to rest and take a break. I made dinner and heard Mark tell Sebastian that he needed rest. He seemed a little short tempered with Sebastian which confused him as it is normally me with the short fuse, with Mark being the calming force in our household.
Next day saw Mark feeling much better although still a little snappy. It was Sebastian that seemed to get the brunt of it as he was the one acting out and constantly demanding things and whining which was getting on both of our nerves. Mark asked me later that morning if I noticed anything different about him and I told him that I had noticed his fuse was a little shorter than normal. He was deeply concerned as he also felt this and knew that it was wrong. The fact that he recognised it assured me that this was only short term. That night however, our sensitive and acutely aware little boy sobbed when I put him to bed. He told me that Daddy was making him sad and I comforted him and told him that every day, Daddy was getting a little bit better and we just need to be strong, hang in there and listen to what Daddy needs.
That night, I had trouble sleeping after falling asleep in front of the television. Every time I would start to fall asleep, Sebastian would wake me, either by calling out in his sleep or calling me because he was feeling unwell. It was a very long night and I managed only a few hours sleep. By 7.30am, Mark strutted in, showered, shaved and dressed, ready for breakfast, with me still in bed struggling to get up. He told me he was feeling good after a restful night and while I dragged myself into the shower, he set about getting breakfast organised. I felt relieved that he was starting to do homely things and yet guilty that he felt he needed to.
After breakfast we headed into the city to take Sebastian to Daycare. As we walked up the street, he yelled at the top of his voice, "I don't want to go to the Manor, I want to stay home". Once inside he clung on tight and cried and cried. Usually quite content at daycare, no amount of talking to him would calm him down. He screamed and yelled at us and eventually we had to walk away and wave to him through the window, watching him sob. It was gut wrenching but we had to leave as we had a full day of appointments to attend.
Later that morning we stopped in at the Credit Union where Mark worked and we seemed to have somewhat of a celebrity status. More and more people gathered around Mark to see if he was really ok, to marvel in how quick he was recovering and see the scars of his surgery. I received countless comments about my blog and how so many people felt comfort in reading about how well Mark was handling all that had happened to him. I now have a better understanding of how many people really care about Mark and how many men have been brought to tears reading about his courage and strength. It's true, his courage is to be admired, but we both know that we can only look forwards and there is no time for the "whys" and "hows", only "what do we need to do to beat this?"
An afternoon appointment saw us back at the Flinders for a discussion regarding an experimental chemo drug. We had previously been told that Chemo was not an option for his type of tumour, however, the radiologist immediately saw him as a potential client to go on this drug trial. We discussed the drug and it's side effects and it was an easy decision to sign up for the trial. Tissue samples of the tumour would be retrieved and be sent off to a central lab in Europe to test if Mark's tumour would be accepting of this drug which had seen some positive results in Stage 4 tumours.
So now we wait. Wait for test results to see if he qualifies for the drug and wait for Mark to heal fully before starting radiation therapy. I am so pleased to see how radically different each day is. His moods are better each day, he is feeling stronger each day, the weakness in his left side is going away, his head is tingling as things heal and nerve endings rejoin. Tomorrow we begin some exercise, a walk to the oval (around 4 blocks away) where we usually do our jogging, and while he is under strict instructions (by me) NOT to jog, he can walk or simply enjoy the fresh air and sunshine while I do the hard yards!
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