Gil's much anticipated chicken soup yesterday was inadvertently left at home as we packed our bags for the day's visiting in the hospital.
Amidst the morning chaos at our house with four women living or visiting here, Meryl thought I was bringing it and I thought Meryl was bringing it.
We only succeeded in leaving it at home on the top shelf of the refrigerator!
Oh well. We'll try again today.
Gil's day was difficult again. He gets very tired in the afternoons which makes sense because his mornings are filled with showering and getting ready for each day, consulting doctors making plans for his treatment, and our arrival with news from friends and family.
In fact, he's asked that only Marika and I stay past 3 o'clock pm each day and that visitors refrain from stopping in after that time. He gets too tired, he's having a harder time managing pain control at that time, and frankly, he's exhausted.
These past few mornings he's tuned his TV in to the Tour de France which we always used to watch together when Lance Armstrong was riding and favored to win. It's ironic that as Lance battles to get up the hills, coasts on the way down, and battles to get up another one, Gil finds it a metaphor for his own battle.
We should be finding out today or tomorrow what HLA type Gil, Meryl, Genie and our kids have for bone marrow matching. They are, of course, Gil's best hope. However, we can still go to the International Bone Marrow Registry if the perfect match doesn't happen within our family.
Today both Meryl and I are going to ask one another as we get into the car, "Did you get the soup for Gil?"