Right outside George’s window to vanish and reappear with the fog. His room this time (and the room he started in the last time) has a north facing window through which I can see that the construction of this spring is just about complete. All that remains is the shrouding and scaffolding at the end of the building section directly across. Gazing toward the east, portions of downtown San Francisco are visible. Provided, of course, that one enjoys gazing at those places which are off limits for the foreseeable future.
I will just mention, beyond some of the most fantastic nurses I have ever met, that one never gets much sleep in a hospital. Between frequent vital signs, beeps from the IVs which run continuously and traffic in the ward corridor, there isn’t much opportunity for rest. So catching short naps (i.e. drifting off) during the day is about the only option.
The protocol this time adds whole body radiation to the chemo regiment in order to essentially completely wipe out his immune system. It doesn’t look to be a whole lot more fun than the last time; so far he has been spared the nausea, but I suspect his hard won hair return will shortly depart.
On the positive side, when you don’t have any white blood cells of your own, you are at high risk for infection and are spared from having to share a room. No one to argue about the TV remote and the hospital Wifi means access to one’s daily dose of news programs.