This week was...rough.

This past week was...rough.  One of our friends in the ICU with diabetes complications, and it has been touch and go.  He was just transferred to San Francisco.  My grandmother took her foster son, Ranny, down to Stanford for open heart surgery.  He is back in ICU with a collapsed lung.  It breaks my heart to not be able to be there for them other than in prayer.  Those troubles make mine pale in comparison.

After a full week and a half of going back and forth between infusion centers, my doctor's office, and our insurance company, I finally got scheduled for treatment.  For three days, I will have to travel downtown to visit the oncology department for an IVIG infusion.  My awesome husband took the time off to sit with me, and the whole village came out to help take care of Emma while we're at the infusion center.

Adam's car has been out of commission because of a bent rim.  We haven't been able to find anyone that will sell us one rim, and we don't really have the money to buy extra rims that we do not need.  When he attempted to move his car this past week, we discovered that a rat had eat several cables under the hood.  Bonus prize, right?

I found my four year old bawling in her room earlier.  She has a friend who is a little older, and that friend lost her grandmother recently.  The friend asked Emma what she will do when Adam, my mom, and I die.  Double bonus prize.  Understandably, Emma was distraught.  I can tell that me being sick affects her, and this scared her badly.  I held her and rocked her, whispering in her ear how much I love her. How I'll never leave her.  How I'd hold her all day long if I could.  I explained again that Mommy is getting good treatments that should hopefully help me have the energy to do more "Mom" things.  How I'd be home she she woke up in the morning, and how I'd be home for dinner and to cuddle while she fell asleep.  

Tonight Adam ran to get dinner, and discovered that the power steering pump in my car wasn't working correctly.  After opening up the hood, he found a leak in the tubing for the pump.  Triple bonus prize.  My dad lent us his truck so that we can get to the appointment without having to rent a car.  Chugging downtown in a huge Dodge Ram should be fun.  God bless him for helping out, though.  He'll be babysitting in the afternoons as well.

While Adam and my mom drove over to pick up the truck, I decided to take a long, hot shower.  I've been an emotional wreck, and I needed it.  I didn't factor in that the washing machine and dishwasher were going, and it was a fight to keep the water warm.  I scrubbed, I shaved, I moisturized.  I felt a little like Geralyn Lewis when she decided to wear lipstick to her mastectomy.  (My survived breast cancer treatment at 32, while I was just babe.)  At least if I have to endure physically and mentally, I'll look okay doing it.  Trade that lipstick for Burt's Bee's lip tint, and I'm there.  

I admit it.  I am scared.  I am nervous.  I am excited.  I am trying to hold on to the fact that IVIG can be a huge help for most, but it may not help.  My last resort would be long-term steroid treatment, and steroids make me feel horrible.  I pray to God that this helps.  I pray that I do not suffer side effects.  If you're the praying type, please pray with me.  I can't thank all of my friends and family that have stood up to support me enough.  Words do not express it.