"Wait, what?" you're thinking to yourself as you read this title. "But you raised all this money for him to get treatment in Mexico that's supposed to work."
Let me give you the rundown.
When I got home from Mexico, I had a yard sale. I've wanted to have one for years, but never had the motivation to get it organized. I don't why caring for an ill husband finally lit the fire under my butt, but it did. I guess knowing that he was being well taken care of where he was gave me peace of mind and helped me feel that something was taken off my plate and I had the time to do it. Regardless, it was a great relief to sell 20 years of collected stuff that we didn't need anymore. And I made a good chunk of money too, so that was a good feeling.
While Scott was in Mexico, our twenty first anniversary happened. It's the first time we've been apart for an anniversary. I was going to get my wedding ring fixed because the big diamond had fallen out a month before when we were hiking in the canyon. I thought I'd have time to do that too, but no such luck. I also tried to get ahold of someone at the cancer center to get a massage for Scott as an anniversary gift, but that didn't happen either. Let me tell you, I felt like wife of the year! 😢 Scott arranged with our boys to buy me flowers and have them video my reaction when they gave them to me. Score for him! It was very sweet.
Scott came home the week after our anniversary. He had the same tests done as when he arrived - another ultrasound and more blood work. When the results came back, I asked him to call me so I could hear as the doctor explained them. He did, but the phone was far away from the doctor's mouth and with his already thick accent, it was hard for me to hear and understand. What I did understand was that his inflammatory markers were still high and the tumors had not shrunk in size. They say that's nothing to worry about, because three weeks of treatment in the center is just the starting point for the entire treatment, which includes an extensive at home treatment plan and two follow up visits at three month intervals, so his first follow up visit at the center would be around the end of September.
After about a week at the center, Scott's stomach hurt non-stop. He stopped eating as much. We figured it was just from the different foods that he was eating. That probably had something to do with it, but we'd find out later that there was more to it than that.
The week he got back, we had a family get together at his brother's house. Two more of his brothers were in town visiting and we had a mini family reunion of sorts. We were waiting for their father to get there so he and Scott could visit for a bit and Scott was really uncomfortable. He was in pain and just bearing through it without complaining, which was typical of him. Loud noises were hard for him, as well as talking. Every time he tried to talk at normal volume level, he would cough, which would make his throat hurt. After waiting for two hours, his father finally got there. Scott only visited with him for five minutes and then needed to go home. After an hour and a half of waiting for my father-in-law, I asked my sister-in-law to please call him and tell him that his dying son really wanted to visit with him and to please get his butt over there, so she did, but she didn't say those words; she was a lot nicer. I couldn't believe that I actually said out loud that my husband was dying; he was totally fine and going to make a miraculous recovery. I passive aggressively called out my father-in-law and admitted my husband was dying? It's interesting what a person in pain will say and/or do. I only somewhat regret it now. Little did I know that we were in for a VERY long night!
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