Yes, Yes I Did.

It's kinda funny to read this, because when I received this cute sign from my cousin we were in the thick of shit.  Dab smack in the middle of the shit bowl.  I texted her my thankfulness, she replied..."sorry leese, sent this and didn't realize he was back in"-  

No worry there, because as I sat it on my desk, I stared at it and thought.  We're in shit creek, been in shit creek, been out of shit creek, in shit creek, and most likely based on all the stories I read on my support group, will be back in shit creek.  It's just part of the gig.  

Shit.

After spending exactly 7 days with him, and crawling pretty deep under eachothers skin.  Because hello, and 20X20 room with beeping noises and lines and poles that are no where near "ocean like" can become easily a disaster. Navigating through what I would call a nightmare there in Hollywood, I was glad to hear the words from him yesterday "gall bladder is better, and I'm getting discharged"-

That was one shit-fest.  

Looking at the bright side of things, he's home.  I can't dwell on counts. I can't and won't nag at the impossible about germs.  His transplant doctor making a visit yesterday with Kali present.  Stating in true fashion like no.big.deal....that this stuff just happens. Kinda pushing me down and making me scrape my knee's in true bullshit fashion, because if you ask me, why do they tell him to get on with life, yet don't go over the fucking facts of what can happen in "getting on with life"- WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?! That his gall bladder became inflamed from the GVHD, causing infection of the body.  So for the last 2 weeks of diarrhea and feeling absolutely horrible, at least a known cause is noted.  The pneumonia alone causing an eye opener, to him. And to this journey.  

Arriving at ER in Septic form.  Which within days could of cost him his life. 

Again, it's the realization I live with that every day is a gift.  It's not an easy gift.  It's like that gift you receive that you really don't LOVE, but you like because you need it.  You know?

Going through post-transplant has been the hardest part.  The healing will take months, and months, and years and years.

And there's not a single day, especially early morning that I don't fret the next hour.  Or moment. Or the sight of his number and name coming up on my phone.  

I can give him the tools, and help him navigate through these rough waters.  Truth is, he's tired.  He's tired of feeling like shit.  Like laying in bed all day long. Or often times lately, crying. 

He's tired of looking skinny and frail.  

The most traumatic hospital stays on this past visit.  Especially when you see that your mom is starting to lose it. 

Everything breaking down.  Bodies. Spirits.  Emotions. Gatherings.  

Support systems.  People finding ways to steer far away from something that is inevitable. Because the whole thing is inconvenient.  The whole process is one big shit fest.  And yet, your mom....she just keeps pushing and loving.  Even when at times she loses her temper and tells you off.

I'm tired.  He's more tired. 

I can't love any harder.  And I can't protect him any further.

I can tell him where to go. What numbers to call. What meds to take.  How to handle this person or that. 

But I can't make this pain and feeling go away. 

For now, I can put down that shit paddle.  Stand back from the shit river.  

Smile at him, and listen to his side.  Love everyone right back.  Especially to my family.  My sister that spent the night with him.  My aunts that would show up with food. And for a quick hug.

The many friends that reached out to me.  Offering help, even though they know I navigate better alone.  Because I am a freak.  

I walked the streets of Hollywood.  Offering homeless people clothes, bedding and love. 

I know no other way. But to just love.  Even when my heart is breaking. 

He's home.  He slept pretty good last night.  

I laid my head down last night next to my rock.  Kali in one room, Kris in the other.  

Life isn't that warm and perfect.  It won't stay that way for long. 

But last night I was able to put down my warrior stick.  My shit paddle. 

And sleep. 

And sleep I did. 

I have plenty of pictures to share.  Some of Kris, some of Kali and Bill and my rock of a friend Shelly. 

I have pictures of so many things. 

For now, just know we are doing okay.

I can't look at counts today.  Something I've been obsessed with since August 19, 2015.

Today, I still monitor meds.  I'll start honking horns at doctors and pharmacies tomorrow. 

I'll try to clear my desk and work, sharing love and hardwork with those around me that watch, witness and love me right back.  

I hope you all have a great rest of the week.

Remember, even when you're in the shit creek and your paddle has hundreds of holes in it, don't stop.

Keep paddling.  

Because, you just might get to the side for a break.

Or breather. 

And you can finally have a tall glass of red wine.  

Love to you all, 

This Mama Lisa- Warrior for Life I guess..

-KINDNESS MATTERS-

  Happy June 1st you guys!  Lots of birthdays this month.....And the first official day of summer!