Tuesday, April 19, 2016

add it to the list

Today was supposed to be a celebration of sorts, a chance to start moving on.

Today was supposed to be Rico's last day of radiation.

But no.

And this is why.

Remember this machine?



















Yeah, well apparently it blew gasket number 347 or some such thing, and the part they need is in Tennessee.

Yeah - Tennessee - you know, where they keep all of the really high-tech s#!+ used for life saving measures. Memphis to be exact. Probably in the back room of Corky's barbecue joint for all I know.




Regardless, it's not here, at Mayo - where we need it to be.

SO, after three days of waiting for parts, Rico's heading to another clinic tomorrow. This is nerve wracking for several reasons:

1) Waiting. As I've mentioned before:


2) Things are uncertain enough, at least the radiation schedule kept us focused, kept us on a path, fighting the good fight. It feels like being derailed. Realistically we know it's not a big deal, but emotionally, it stinks.

3) His girls. Rico loved the staff he was working with. They love him too. Not being able to share this final round with them makes us all a little sad.

4) How exactly do they know this part is broken? More important - how do we know it wasn't broken before?  What if all they've been doing this whole time is shining a 4-ton flashlight on his groin? Chop chop, we want some answers here.

But still we are grateful. We have each other to lean on. We have snuggles and smiles and stories and hugs. We also have this really great twice weekly meal train, which has been a most pleasant surprise.
Not gonna lie, when someone first suggested "church meal train" - my first thought was "I really have a hard time accepting help from people" but my second thought was, "especially if help means suspicious lo-mein or chunky tuna casserole."  I had visions of fighting with my kids to get them to eat whatever weirdness popped out of the tupperware bowl.

It's not like that - not at all. It's all chicken fajitas and bacony potatoes, and barbeque pizza, and taco mac & cheese.  Allow that to sink in:

Taco mac & cheese.

So twice a week, for the next couple of weeks, when I work late, somebody brings food to the house and everybody gets to eat something besides pizza rolls. It's amazing.

But still, I would trade that mac & cheese for part number 327. And you wouldn't even have to twist my arm.

2 comments:

Treats said...

Please can I bring tuna torture? (Or Teriyaki chicken?). I'm sure Rico's gals at the radiation dept are as bummed as he is that they didn't get to finish his treatments. He should still get to go ring the damn bell. Hang in there.

j said...

Did you not read the fine print Treats? There's a strict "no tuna clause". However, if you could round up some live geese for our front yard, I think Rico would appreciate that.