PHOTO GALLERY

During the last days in Maine there were important events and visits that need to be noted, along with how I was feeling at those moments:

My niece came to visit and brought her sons to see me. It has been an important issue to me that children can and should be apart of all life experiences - joyful and sad alike. Jen and Kels are fortunate that all of the parenting adults, in their life share this idea. So, they were brought to see me, in the unusual and intimidating environment of my hospital room. Jen (blue sweatshirt) and Kels are highly intelligent and inquisitive interviewers. This is how they learn! And boy do they absorb information!
They asked questions about the room, my hair, the medications that were being administered by the IV tree, and the masks that they were required to wear. Note that Kels had an issue with wearing the mask. He was able to hold it on his face and maintain the safety factor. Kels also asked the best question of all: "How will we know if/when the stem cell transplant worked?" I answered him the same way that my doctors answered this to me. Both boys understood.

My sister Ilene is their "Bubbie" (Yiddish word for Grandmother).

Prior to the boys arrival, I was feeling very unsure of accepting any visitors. These days were uneasy for me as I was at Nadir and also coming through the A-Fib event. I was weak of body and mind.

It was a major motivation for me to be able to talk with the boys. Just like my nephew Max, I feel an obligation to share my experiences so that they will be apart of our family's total lives, not just "seen and unheard". Their questions are born of their observations... and it is beautiful to see and hear them process ideas, ask for clarification, and share their summarized conclusion.
Later on, I prepared to leave my "capsule" for a walk. Heather, who had been present through many phases of my recovery was there to help me with this major task.

(This was my second time walking out into the hall. There aren't any pics of the first venture.)
By the time we had arranged for this walk, I was already tired and knew I didn't have long to go before I would have to crawl back into bed. At this phase of the recovery, I spent about 98% of all day in bed. I got up to go to the bathroom, and I could get up for a few minutes to get an item or move something in the room.

This me standing outside the room, which is to the right side of the pic (my left). Behind me is a roof patio that I look out at from my bed all day. In the nice weather patients are encouraged to stroll into the fresh air. Of course today it is snow covered and about 10 degrees out there. I'm thrilled to walk up the slight incline that leads to the door - this is a major triumph!!! I am already running low on stamina, and anxious to move on... I'm trying not to go right back to bed.
Jody was at the 3-North Nurse's Station (my Mission Control). Was she smiling for Robbi, the photographer, or was she that happy to see me up and walking? I think it is the latter.

My common pose, with Ilene. I didn't realize I stood like this. I'm sure that it shows my insecure feelings. I am certainly uneasy at this time. Immediately after this is taken, I turned and made it back to the room - which is 30 feet behind me. The door that you see directly behind is that patio door.

Oh! The elevator door on the right is the one that I used for the "Star Trek" scene (visit to the xray lab).

We are standing in front of the Nurse's Station.

On Discharge Day!

Debbie (The Boss) presented me with a "Life Is Good" t-shirt, that is signed by all of the hospital staff that was involved in my treatment. (actually - she had to hold on to the shirt to get some signatures of people who weren't yet available)

The hat I'm wearing has the Hebrew word for LIFE on it.

This hat was given to me by my father-in-law (Don) when I was recovering from my heart attack, in Dec. 1997. Don died in Jan. 1999, of pancreatic cancer. (He is remembered in all of our life events - before and after his death.)

When I was being wheel-chaired out of the hospital, I asked Debbie to stop... Ya, I cried. Now, sooooooo many people keep assuming that I must have mixed emotions about leaving my cocoon. It has been the safe harbour for so long that it natural to feel unsure when leaving it... nope. Not a shred of anxiety... not one whimper of "I'll miss you"...

It's more like "BYE BYE!!!!!!" "Thanks for the memories - and now I'm going to create a new life without you!"

I can't speak for anyone else, but I don't get the thought process that is being imposed on me or others. Perhaps you may (or have) felt that way, and that's cool, because you are YOU. In my world, (greatly influenced by Robbi, Emily and Jayme) we have a view of life's events that is summarized in this phrase: "Feel it and move." Some events may cause to pause for a moment of reflection, some (like remembering loved ones gone) are reflected upon repeatedly (both planned for and randomly).

Leaving this room was a great moment of passage that I will remember always with fondness and triumph. And now we move forward.

Back in the hotel for the couple of days, Robbi poses in a rare moment on the lens side of the camera.

Yes, she is making fun of my fuzzy baldness. I have shaved off the scraggly remnants of my beard. I'm told that when hair returns, it can actually come back in a different texture and color.
Before anyone asks - NO - Robbi is not drinking a Jack Daniels on the rocks!... She is holding mine (just kidding again).

These days, Ilene is laughing a lot now - she's just happy that her baby brother is still alive. Ilene found out that phone conversations, emails, and blog messages just don't quite get the point across. When she arrived, I was heading into the hardest point of recovery. She watched me, along with Robbi, after I had hit the bottom and began to climb up slowly. She wasn't here for Nadir (a few days before she arrived).

Nothing can prepare us for seeing a loved one look like "something the dog dragged out, and the cat dragged back in again."
On the day before we left Maine, I had an appointment with Dr. Ann.

Another rare moment for Robbi, in front of the camera - NOTE: She and Ann are holding hands behind me! This is not a small moment, for they have a very strong bond between them. It is more than me. They are truly connected in how they view our world, the process of healing. I am most fortunate to have them as my primary caregiver/health care provider.
The note book holds every test result and vital sign throughout my hospital stay.
On the day that we were leaving Maine, I had to come back to the hospital to have my chest lines removed. There was very little discomfort during the procedure. The local area numbing process hurt more than anything else. I was totally awake and aware during it. It took about 15 minutes to disconnect and pull the line from my chest... amazing stuff.

Debbie had met us in the area where this was done, and when we were preparing to leave we got a call from Dr. Ann's office - "please come down to her, she wants to recheck me before I leave."

See, yesterday, my heart rate was elevated and she had been wondering why... all other vitals were perfect, especially my Oxygen absorbing levels.

Then she realized that I wasn't hydrating properly... I have to drink a minimum of 2 liters of fluid a day... and she was correct that I was low on the intake over the last day or so. Since then I am drinking 3+ liters a day (lots of trips to the boy's room).

Then, we left to begin the journey home... This is the door that Robbi entered and exited every day during my treatment.
We had to return to Hampton Inn, to finish packing the car. It is amazing that when you live some place for a month and 1/2, you accumulate a lot of STUFF!

It barely fit into the car... I won the toss of the coin and got to ride in the front seat while the leftover food stuff stayed behind. WHEW! I wasn't looking forward to staying in Maine. I hope the hotel staff likes Oreos, soups and tortilla chips.

The ride home wasn't too eventful. I was uncomfortable because of aches in my bone marrow. It seems that I was still over producing blood cells and the pressure in the bones is very achy. I had a script that helped me be a lot less cranky.... and wimpy - Robbi doesn't tolerate wimpy.

I've already described the arrival into Westborough, so the coming postings will focus on healing...