(With a view)
Besides that mind-boggling treatment they'll give me in Monterrey, they give us an apartment to live in so that I don't have to be in a hospital the whole time.
Another reason I chose this clinic and Dr. Ruiz: I'm having a major medical procedure and I'm not going to sit in a hospital bed being spoon fed by personnel in haz mat suits.
Dr. Ruiz found that the biggest risk to immunosuppressed and neutropenic patients is, well, the hospital. As my doctor-nephew said, "You don't want to know what you can find on those white coats." So, they put us up in a great pad, monitor us with carers and nurses, and bring us into the hospital just for the big stuff, like chemo, stem cell harvest and graft. Otherwise, we have a two-bedroom with a rooftop garden and a healing view of the mountains. So, maybe this IS kind of like a vacay for us?
And by us, I mean my two sisters (Cheryl, oldest, and Meg, youngest) and husband. This post really is about them.
I'm one of the lucky--no--blessed women I know to have family and a partner who are willing to drop their daily lives and jobs to get me through this. I could hire a nurse to take care of me 24/7, even live with me in the apartment. But my husband said he won't allow it. Going through this with a stranger was out of the question (Ladies, he's mine!)
Matt and Cheryl will stay state-side at the house with the girls while Meg and I party move into the apartment and start treatment. Cheryl will relieve Meg of puke caretaking about halfway through for about 10 more days until Matt gets there. Then he will bring me home.
My sisters and husband just know how to make me feel better. I couldn't have asked for a better care plan. Actually, I feel bad that Meg's first trip to Mexico is to clean up my vomit and shave my head when my hair starts falling out. I was lamenting to Cheryl about this. She said not to worry, if we were just taking a vacation together we'd still be doing that.
See? I'll be just fine.