Well, Okay Then.
B came home this afternoon! Calls and visits can begin tomorrow. :)
He says he doesn't feel any better than when he went in, but I can positively say he *looks* better. The puffiness is completely gone from his face, especially noticeable around the eyes. The perpetual frown lines are much less evident - he doesn't look like he's in pain.
Of course, the majority of his symptoms still exist. Thankfully, the fever/chills thing has abated, and the Marinol is definitely helping with nausea and appetite. His pain is pretty much limited to the migraine, and is being controlled by Tylenol instead of Vicodin. He's had veg. soup, crackers w/ peanut butter and 2 cups of herbal tea since he's been home, with no ill effects.
The ultrasound on the gall bladder turned up nothing. The team is pretty much convinced that all his symptoms are drug related, and the goal is to reduce the meds as quickly as possible to reduce the ill effects.
B is down because he really thought and hoped he'd feel substantially better when he came home, but that was not the case. He is very grateful to be home though. Better to feel this way at home than in the hospital.
The other thing that's happening is that the team is trying to get him to grieve for his past life and to "accept" that this may be his life now, that this is as good as it gets. And this is where my ability as caregiver gets called into question. Because I can't believe this idea is anything but utter crap. This cannot be as good as it gets. Just last year at this time, B was driving himself to Dr appointments. He was visiting people, making plans weeks out in advance with no worry that he'd have to cancel. He was cooking dinner nightly and baking breakfast goodies weekly. He was puttering in the garden. He was going out with me at least once a week and enjoying himself. He was living a quiet, but rewarding life.
NOW, he's lying in the bed or on the sofa, usually crying from pain, frustration and fear. This is not a life. The team says you have to accept that your life will be different after the BMT. DUH! We accepted that! Okay, he can't work 50-60 hrs per week in a high stress industry anymore. He might never work again. But lying around in pain, practically unable to care for yourself is a far cry from "a different life." This is not what we signed up for. We've seen people who've done the BMT. They're at worst, semi-retired, healthy, and happy to be alive. That's what we are aiming for. Not this crap he's been living with for months. No one in their right minds would be happy with this.
I wonder if I should keep track of all the drugs he's taken one or two doses of/used for 1-2 days. It could be entertaining. Although I think the cumulative total of the copays would give me palpitations.