"In the Bleak Midwinter"

Two years ago

The week before Christmas is rough. On December 18th David’s white blood cell count had doubled in 3 days. Do the math: this could be fatal by December 27th. December 19th, at a routine visit, David tells the nurse he’s having abdominal pain: an 8 on a scale of 1-10. Of course, he hasn’t said a word to me.
While he is at Cox, I go forward with my plan to drive to my 1 p.m. therapy appointment in Waltham. From MGH, I take the Mass Pike, an unfamiliar route. Even though I have GPS, I get confused and miss the Newton exit. I then miss the Waltham/Route 128 exit, so I have to go to Framingham. And then the traffic slows to a crawl.
Feeling desperate and stressed, I call my therapist, saying I need to see him, if only for a short visit. He’s got free time, so he says to drive safely and he’ll be waiting.
As expected, David is admitted to Lunder 10. He probably has an intestinal infection. We know it isn’t colitis: he has no bowel. One small perk: he’s scored a 10th floor room with a stunning view of the Charles River.
December 20th, inpatient, David’s blood pressure dropped to 70 over something. His nurse, Meg, gave him a bolus of saline, then a unit of red blood cells. It’s a bit tense: both Meg and Judy Foster, the nurse practitioner, were in the room. Afterwards Meg said, “I knew we weren’t going to lose him.” I didn’t know that.

Just before Christmas 2016

I’m looking forward to the new year, when people will stop asking me the perfectly innocent question: who’s coming home? For four different reasons, Peter and his family are the only ones who will be with us. And, of course, we’ll miss David.
My good friend, Cami, comes over with her kids to help me decorate the house and tree. Cami’s a good sport about installing the tree lights. She just bought a pre-lit tree to avoid that task at home.
They’ve promised to come back after Epiphany to put the decorations away. I was struggling with the prospect of taking down the decorations, so much so that I couldn't put them up alone.

But, really, things are not all dreary; mostly life feels good. I walk to Cami’s for my weekly piano lesson: 5 ½ miles total. The Saturday snow (about 6 inches) has mostly melted, though there are patches of ice to be wary of. I get home after dusk, which falls at 4:15 p.m. Tomorrow is winter solstice.