Ending on Dose 8
Chris got through dose 7 at 2:00 am Thursday morning. The doctor swung by and discussed the merits of going on to dose 8. We weighed the pros and cons of one more dose, versus buying ourselves three more days in the hospital if that one more dose put him into kidney, lung, heart or other various organ failures. She suggested that we stop at 7 and spend the rest of the day gaining strength, so we could go home Friday morning.
She didn’t realize just how grouchy Chris was. He hadn’t slept the night before and had begun his standard ritual of going Mel Gibson on the hospital room. He was angry at the bed, at the walls, at being constantly attached to an IV pole. As sometimes happens, he looked up at the doctor and said in a defiant manner reminiscent of our six year old, “If I have to stay in this dumb stupid room, I’d rather just go ahead and get dose 8.”
The doctor chuckled a bit and said she’d give us ten minutes to think about it. I saw a negotiating opportunity. I asked Chris if he would feel differently if he could go home that day, rather than spending another night in the hospital. He gave me a surly look, but nodded.
So, I set off in search of the doctor. I asked if there was any precedent for sending folks home in the early evening. She said that it had in fact happened before, but it wasn’t standard practice. But she’s a smart cookie and saw what I was getting at. So, Chris agreed to forego dose 8 and the doctor agreed to try to get him out by 6:00 pm.
Of course, at 2:00 Chris informed me that he would like to have left at 1:45. Our nurse was sympathetic and called the doctor, who agreed to rush the last labs. She had the paperwork processed and our discharge papers by 3:30.
We’re happily back home in D.C. now. Chris is going through the usual misery, including aching joints, peeling skin, nauseau, and fatigue. But knowing that we have six weeks off is a great relief for all of us.
Kate and I went and got our nails done this morning. All’s right with the world today.