Today is Tuesday. Normally on a Tuesday I get up, go to work, come home, put a wash on, make some food, go out for a run, put my son to bed. You get the drill. I do the everyday stuff, some of it is mundane but it is real stuff.
Today started off in a normal way. I wasn’t expecting anything much to happen. I wasn’t really thinking about anything particularly special.
Today we visited the hospital. We sometimes do this on a Tuesday. My husband gets his bloods checked. He has a chat with the consultant. And his treatment is monitored.
Today I realised that roughly one year ago, at this time we were also in hospital. Except the circumstances were slightly different. My husband was on medication that wasn’t helping. He developed severe influenza. He had golfballs for glands. His immune system was struggling to fight off the infection. His bloods were suddenly dangerously low.
He was falling down the rabbit hole.
I will never forget that day when the doctor in charge of BMT sat down with me in the visitor’s room, whilst my son stared at the fish tank and told me that we would need to talk in the near future about transplants. That my husband was now very ill. I think I felt my world start to wobble for a while.
What a difference a year makes.
He might still have Myelofibrosis. He might still need to struggle. But for now we have a grace period and we can breath for a little bit longer.