detox

I need an emotional detox.

Monday night, I did not sleep well. I was up at 4am to get D to TX Children's for his surgery; he had a porta-catheter implanted. Then another sleepless night to wake at 5:30 to get him back to TCH for a spinal tap and chemo therapy. We were in the infusion room until almost 6:30pm.
I was so exhausted by the time we left, that I didn't notice I left my planner behind until this morning when the home health care nurse asked for D's list of medications and I knew the list is in my planner. That planner is my life-line these days, with a calendar of every step of D's treatment, his blood labs, day to day necessities, business cards of his many doctors and hospital agents, etc. Just looking through it stabilizes me and puts things in order in my mind.
Fortunately, my oldest daughter was able to get the medical center this afternoon and retrieve the planner for me. 
This morning, a home health care nurse came to the house to give D an infusion. He showed me how to do it, and I am to give him infusions tomorrow and the next day. Then we get a break of a few days until next week when he returns for another spinal and more chemo.There is more for me to do each day than simply 'mother' him. Now I need to be his nurse a few days a week as well, and that is a little bit scary.

Our nurse practitioner called this morning to give me options for future treatments.
This is the first time anyone has given us 'options'.
She noticed yesterday, after we had been at the center for over nine hours, that I was uneasy. D had been receiving his chemo on Fridays for the first month, and I was breezing through things. That was our day away from the house together, taking care of him. Yesterday, however, was our first Wednesday. The day was exhausting not only because of the lack of sleep and long hours, but because it was Wednesday and Wednesday is also Holy House day. My children were split in three different directions with  rides to friends and rides to ballet and all leaving at different times to get them where they needed to be. I knew they were safe, but it still weighed on me and left me feeling out of control. The stress was immeasurable. But I thought I had no other choice; the doctor told me his chemo was being switched to Wednesdays and I said, "okay."
But our wonderful nurse practitioner heard my story and said, "Fixed". Just like that, she said it. She sent me home, told me not to worry, and assured me that she would make it work. This morning she called and gave me options. I have some choices.
Since the diagnosis, the wonderful doctors at TCH told me what they would do to cure my son. They do it everyday, and they know what they are doing. The promised me that would treat him like their own- and they have- and they promised to hold my hand every step of the way- and they have. They tell me what works, where to be and when to be there and I do it.
And I nearly fell apart doing it.
Until the beautiful Jalane came along and "fixed" it.
Now I need to decide on the days my son goes for his chemo. And I feel better.

But I feel like I still need to recover from yesterday.

Last night I was up only once to give meds to D and settle his anxious body back to bed. Then, I slept in this morning. 
I thought a good night sleep and "fixing" the days would somehow fix me. Not so. Today I'm edgy and weepy. There is no explaining this feeling and no quick fix. It's a skin-crawly wet-behind-the-eyes feeling that a glass of wine and bubble bath just won't touch.

Well, maybe it will touch it. At least that's an option, and just having options is a step in the right direction.