DAILY NANCY UPDATE #103

Greetings. 

This is the one hundred and third in a series of DAILY NANCY UPDATES I will be posting until the amazing Nancy Neufeld Callaway is in full remission and we have kicked her leukemia on its ass. 

If you'd like to be automatically notified of updates to this blog-- just enter your email address in the window on the right beneath Nancy's picture and follow the prompts!

SATURDAY - BREAKING NEWS

Well, it turns out that move back upstairs to the Bone Marrow Transplant ward happened a lot faster than expected. Due to other emergency patient needs in the ICU, they couldn't wait till later today to move Nancy-- and instead moved her back to the 6th floor at around 1AM this morning. So poor Shirley had her work cut out for her, trying to bag up all of Nancy's things in the middle of the night and get them to the new room.

But while I'm on the topic, let's talk about the amazing Shirley Parry for a moment, shall we? We were first blessed to have her in our lives as a nanny to our kids. Then when the kids got older, she decided to chase her dream of becoming a nurse. And lucky us, she achieved that dream. Even luckier, she was in the room with Nancy eleven nights ago when she had her big seizure. And sweet Shirley not only took care of the Sunshiny Superwarrior Goddess then-- but she's been with Nancy every single night since. In other words, she went from saving Nancy's life to saving mine-- and to say she is a Godsend would be selling her far too short. I love you, Sheesh. You're a part of our family and you always will be.

Meanwhile, today has been a much slower day. Nancy seems tired and quiet. So her visiting Soulstice Sista Jessica and I have been trying to let her take it easy, while we decorate her room-- which Dr. Forman was adamant about us doing as soon as possible. He believes all the family photos, cards, mementos, and twinkly lights will be good for her reorientation/rehabilitation.

Finally, I want to share something with you that isn't easy to share.

There's a sculpture garden on the hospital grounds where I occasionally sit on a bench to clear my mind, make calls, or just cry like a big bald baby. And there's one particular sculpture I often stare at in the process. Unfortunately, there's no title or artist listed on a plaque, or I'd post the name here, if only to properly say thanks. 

But here's a photo of the work:

In my mind, I call it "Abracadabra." And on one level, it's become symbolic for me of all the medical magic required to get Nancy back to wellness-- setbacks and all. So many treatments. So many drugs. So many unexpected interactions-- with exotic and dangerous pharmaceuticals-- but also with the multitude of doctors and nurses who've prescribed and/or administered them. 

But "Abracadabra" also speaks on a deeply personal level to some of my frustration of late. Over the past eleven days, I've been so worried. And so tired. And so tired of being worried-- that I can't tell you how badly I just want to wave a magic wand and make all of this go away. The leukemia, the chemotherapy, the radiation, the transplant, the seizures, the rehab... all of it undone by some kind of powerful spell that would leave Nancy completely healthy, our kids blissfully unconcerned, and my brow at last unfurrowed.

Of course, I know these are just the cheap tricks of a weary mind. 

The real magic will come in some not-too-distant moment when we're all together in the car driving somewhere, listening to music. I'll look over at her with her new cute short haircut. She'll laugh at something one of our amazing teenagers says. 

And as I smile back at her, I'll think to myself, "Abracadabra... she's finally back."            

WE LOVE NANCY, and... 

ALL IS WELL!

If you'd like to send Nancy a little love (please no flowers, balloons, or food), PLEASE TAKE NOTE OF THE ADDRESS AND NEW ROOM NUMBER BELOW:

Nancy Neufeld Callaway

City of Hope Hospital

1500 E. Duarte Rd.

Helford Bldg. Rm. 6127

Duarte, CA 91010

Meal Train For The Callaways