Dad had his first session of chemo today. I wasn't allowed to be with him while they administered the drugs, so I dropped him off and went back to Blythe and Dustun's house, a short drive from the hospital.
I assumed things were going well until Dad called. His blood pressure was too low to begin treatment. He'd have to wait before they could start.
Hours went by. Robinson, who I'd been exchanging texts with all morning, came up with various ideas to raise Dad's blood pressure: a mix tape of Trump's greatest speeches; a reminder of the time Josh's dad promised to bring fish for dinner, then didn't; and sending him this article. (I did send the link. He did get mad about it.)
Eventually, he made it in. Everything worked out. Dad was finally released at 3:30 and I took him home. It was a long day for all of us.
There's been a lot of stress floating around lately. I've been trying to be mindful of my own sanity while I've been here. It hasn't been easy. I'm taking care of my family, but who's going to take care of me?
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