We celebrated, and then the stuff that I am going to leave him to tell you happened and he came out the other side and we celebrated again. This time we celebrated by enjoying no pain, by going to sleep knowing that we would not be woken until small people asked if it was time to get up yet, by silently nodding to the knowledge that sitting down to watch a movie was not a fool’s errand because we would get to watch it all the way through.
Last night I watched him stretch and thought “He has no pain. The solution was indeed the solution. Let’s get on with life”
Today he called me to say “I need you to come home. I need you to take me to hospital”
I found him on the couch, his face grey, pained and sweaty. I would be lying if I said I didn’t carry my heart in my mouth from that moment on.
He lurched to the car, winced over every speed bump and just about made it in the doors of A&E without dropping to his knees.
He has been admitted. They have given him all sorts of drugs and he is now off in his own little morphine facilitated lah lah land. I, on the other hand, am sat at home playing the “what is he dying from now?” game and I have no morphine to help me out.
He will update you all with more of the details over the next few days but for now he is in no pain and has a test list as long as his arm for tomorrow.
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