We're planning The Boy's week out tonight... we're actually taking Dr. Rifkin's advice and drawing up a spreadsheet for who is supposed to be where for this week. I've got half-days of band camp (Tuesday through Thursday is 10-2, which is an inconvenient half-day time, but life's frequently difficult), so I'm not going to be around much for this round of chemo. Grandma will be here tomorrow, then she's going home and returning Thursday morning. So, it's up to us to figure out what they high holy heck is going on!
Basically, we want to make darn sure that The Wife is never left alone at the hospital with both babies for longer than an hour. That just kind of makes sense, you know? Two small children, a 10x14 room... the mind boggles. Once that's covered as much as we can cover it, the next step is to try to make sure that nobody is left alone with The Boy for longer than three or four hours without some help, overnight notwithstanding. That seems to have been done.
A hearty shout-out goes to St. Peter's... we're calling in another group of people to join Team David for the stretch run. 20 more chemos to go, you know, and things just got made harder because of the second baby. So, in addition to my family, The Wife's family, Chai Lifeline, Alan G-d-bless-him Rubin & his people, and Aunt W's friend Justin, we're bring the Episcopalians into the fight. And, after all, when you need someone knocked firmly on their rear ends, you call in the British. We've got two folks from St. P's coming this week, and we'll hopefully be able to get a few bodies each chemo time from here on out.
So, tomorrow, I'll be leaving for northern Jersey band camp, and they'll be headed to the Valerie Center. If his counts are good enough, we're in... don't know if they are or not. We'll see.