Journey

I was expecting the worst.  I was expecting the CT scan results to show there was cancer recurrence somewhere in Rory’s head, neck or chest.  An eight week cough followed by a rapid decline didn’t bode well.  I had done a lot of googling and reading.  I had convinced myself we were, yet again, going to be told by a doctor our son had cancer.  That we would need to abandon our lives for a third time.  I am still struggling to believe the CT scan results were clear.  I think I will only believe it once I have read the reports myself, which I have requested from the hospital.  Rory made it home on Tuesday on oral antibiotics.  He was feeling a lot better and his blood counts had returned to normal.  The coughing had largely ceased.  The doctors suspect whooping cough or bronchitis and an infection somewhere in his system.  Rory is very glad to be home.  He struggles to be an inpatient in the hospital.  His mood alternates between distressed, depressed and angry.  It is hard to keep him there, even unwell.  He has spent too much time confined within hospital rooms, too much time accompanied by the beeping of machines, too much time being subject to medical treatment and monitoring.  When he is hospitalised his functional ability declines and mentally he reverts to a much younger age.  When he got up on Wednesday morning at home he struggled to do what he normally and easily does.  The highlight of Rory’s week, in addition to receiving his freedom, was a visit from his high school friend Jerry.  Jerry was good for Rory, challenging him to step outside his comfort zone.  Jerry is doing very well for himself driving big rigs around Aotearoa.  He has a partner and is saving for a house.  It did Rory the world of good to catch up with an old friend and see what he has been able to achieve.