Monday finally rolls around. I spend the day trying to get work done and not think about the afternoon appointment or the ramifications of that encounter.
It’s finally time to make the hour and twenty minute trip to City of Hope, Duarte, the main campus as it’s called. After getting through the COVID screenings, I get all the vitals taken and give a brief history to the attending nurse.
Couple minutes later, the head honcho walks in. After a chat, she indicates that treatment will have to be more extreme that last time…a full 5 days of in-hospital infusions and constant monitoring. Minimum, four cycles of one week infusions followed by two weeks at home. Additionally, treatment would have to be done at the Duarte campus.
My family and I want the best treatment from the best doctors, so the choice was made. I would become a temporary resident of Duarte for a month over the next three months. The ramifications of this treatment course start to sink in as Cyndy and I talk about. Thinking back, I haven’t spent more than seven nights away from Cyndy in almost ten years. A sad substitute is the excellent wi-fi for video chatting. Sacrifices must be made…