Home for the Weekend

There's no place like home... even if just for 48 hours.

After an eventful six-day stay at PMH, Dr. O'Sullivan was kind enough to give me a weekend pass. Never has fresh air tasted so sweet as when Aunt Linda wheeled me out the hospital yesterday afternoon. I swear, after this week's ordeal, it has become hard not associate every sensation of being on floor 17-B -- the smell of the soap, the sound of the IV pump -- with discomfort and nausea. The car ride back and the familiar comforts of home immediately made me feel better. Not to mention eating for the first time since Monday.

Unfortunately, my stomach is still not 100% at peace, but it is nevertheless a treat to be worshipping at the home bowl. I'm taking it as easy as possible before checking back in to PMH Monday morning to prep for tube insertion part II. Hopefully they'll have more success in a week when my stomach isn't doing the cha-cha from chemo.

Thanks to all for your outpouring of calls, comments, and cards. You sure know how to make a sickly fella feel supported.

Thanks also to my lovely and talented wife for keeping the blog updated during my hospital stay.