It's been a little while since I wrote in here. I have been writing in my other journal, and sometimes I forget what I wrote in which one, lol. I am going to have to go back and take the things that I wrote in the other one (SometimesIThink), and put it in here, just to update this one. But for now, I will just have to put yesterday's news in here. I talked to Ruth Martin, Dr. Claxton's nurse yesterday. She said they were sending John's bone marrow biopsy results to the Mayo Clinic for cyogenetic testing. I don't even know what that means. I think I will look it up when I get done here. She said it will have something to do with when John will get the BMT.
Okay, last entry I said I was going to tell you all a "funny". Well, it turned out not to be so funny. When John was almost asleep, I asked him a question. He answered me. And then I said, "Oh Honey, I love you." He replied, "You are my favorite bone marrow transplant!" "What?" I inquired. "You are my favorite bone marrow transplant," he said again. Then he went to sleep. I thought it was funny at the time, but I don't now. The poor guy has bone marrow transplants on his mind.
And he was under the influence of morphine. It hadn't worn off yet. The next day he told the admistrative person when we went into the hospital to get the procedure to see if he had another kind of cancer (you remember he he had to go in the next morning to see if he had another cancer, don't you?) that he wanted his father in Florida to be his emergency contact (instead of me). He also told her he wanted his dad to make any end of life decisions for him.
Needless to say I was floored. I asked him, "You mean to tell me, if you have to have an operation, you want your dad to make any decisions? And what about when I go with you for the bone marrow transplant? How is your dad going to make those decisions??? He won't even be there. And he doesn't even know your wishes like I do."
John growled at me. "Why are you doing this to me? First you want me to get a haircut and now this!"
I walked down the hall with him in silence. We sat on a bench. I was beside myself. How would we rectify this one? If John had to have surgery to remove this new cancer or whatever this was and I wasn't even his emergency contact, then who was I??? And what about when the bone marrow transplant came up? This was insane.
He was called down the hall into a room. I just started to quietly sob. A woman on the bench put her arm around me. "What's wrong she asked?" "It's not the fact that he will have to have another operation for whatever he has," I said, "And it is not even the fact that he has two cancers already," "or that he needs a bone marrow transplant," (this poor woman had to ask, didn't she, lol), "but the bone marrow biopsy really stressed me out yesterday. And he is being mean today and won't let me be his emergency contact!" "Oh, a bone marrow biopsy," she said. "Was he given morphine?" "Yes," I answered. "Well, then don't believe a word he says. Morphine makes you mean. Besides, he won't even remember what he said to you later." So I was able to calm down. I dried my eyes before John came out and was ready to go. I was hoping she was right.
Two hours later John and I were eating in the hospital cafeteria. "John, who would you like to be emergency contact for you while you have any surgery or are in the hospital? Including your BMT?" "Oh my, you," he quickly replied. "And who would you like to help carry out end of life decisions, if it ever came to that?" "ONLY you," he said emphatically. I said "John, do you recall telling the nurse you wanted your dad to do it?" "What are you talking about?" he asked. Never mind, I said. So I guess morphine makes you say crazy things, do crazy things, even makes you mean...
And by the way, John does not have testicular cancer like they thought he might have, instead it is a hydrocele. It will eventually need surgery, but at least it is not cancer. Thanks everyone who prayed. :)