emergencies

Nothing breaks up a conversation like your eight year old running in saying, “Mom, Mom! Dad needs you to come home right now, it’s an emergency!”

We are ok.

We are all ok.

But I have no idea who I was talking to at the neighborhood gathering, I just left and I ran.

That’s what cancer does.

With Rico’s neutropenia, he wasn’t able to attend the neighbor’s birthday bash with us, even though he lives for that kind of thing, food, friends, laughter, endless telling of endless stories. But the risk of infection is too great right now, so Tiny and I headed across the street for an hour, while Rico hung out at home, waiting for us to bring back a piece of cake.

Tiny met up with some friends while I caught up with the neighbors and the girls asked if they could head back to our house to jump on the trampoline. Rico was home, so I send them on their way. Fifteen minutes later they were back.

“It’s an emergency.”

The funny thing, is that Rico never told her that. He told her to get mom, because he needed to check something out.

But she said, “It’s an emergency.”

That’s what cancer does.

I figured it was a slight fever, which it was. He was already in the car, by the time I got outside. He had a 100 degree fever, and when you’re neutropenic, that means you need antibiotics immediately.

So tonight Rico is in an isolation room in the hospital getting some IV antibiotics, and Tiny and I are back home. We are not sure why Rico keeps getting these infections like clockwork - five days after chemo ends - but so far it’s been the pattern. 

That’s what cancer does - at least this time, at least for us. 

The good news is that I’m currently taking anti-anxiety meds for the first time in my life, because, well, lord, wouldn’t you?  So far it’s served me well. I managed to get to and from the hospital without heart palpitations or hyperventilating. I also survived a tornado in the basement of the dance studio with ten middle schoolers (Kooka was with me, Tiny was with a friend in a back corridor of Target, and Rico was home, completely oblivious. Our neighborhood is fine, but some people in town did not fare as well.) 

We’ll keep you updated when Rico gets home.