I came home Wednesday evening, finally, a 3-week break between cycles of chemotherapy. I'm doing well now (Friday, 1/25), but I was a nervous wreck Wednesday. My sister Marsha came from Philadelphia in time to go home from the hospital with me, and I felt great about finally leaving the hospital. One of my favorite nurses came running to the elevator to give me a hug, afraid that she had missed saying good-bye to me. I thought that was sweet.
In the taxi on the way home, I felt weird, a little feverish, thought I might be turning around and going right back to the hospital. But after that first night (Marsha thought it might have been a panic attack, I blamed the knit hat being too tight), I got back toward normal, just tired, having to remember to take naps.
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