On the failure of a plan

I was afraid of this. I’d hadn’t written about it here because I was afraid that what happened would happen. You might call it being afraid to hope

Last week, the OT said that I could go home for a few days this week as the main hindering factor, twice daily IV antibiotics, could be administered by the local CLSC (local health clinic). I was very  cautiously optimistic about this. However, she seemed to be quite certain it could be done. She was still of the same mind when I saw her yesterday morning. Everything seemed green, though later in the day she did ask me which was my local CLSC.

There was a setback to my mood during my physio session when the Physio said she would leaving for her country (Lebanon) because of an illness in the family. It seems that the three and half year old son of her mother’s niece has stage 4 lymphoma. Owing to particular family arrangements, the emotional connection is much closer than it would appear on the surface as the mother’s niece grew up almost as a daughter to the Physio. (If I remember correctly.) I understood her grief and her need to travel. As we were discussing this, St-Michael the Holy Mole came into the gym. She knew that he was a devout believer (as opposed to me the skeptic) and asked him to pray for the child (Elias). The Mole was willing to do so and offered to ask the Brothers of the Holy Cross to offer prayers for Elias at St-Joseph’s Oratory.

Afterwards, the three of us walked outside, me on crutches. It was a first for me to go any significant distance outside. I even walked up some stairs to the Mahatma Gandhi Park. After the physio session, I had the Mole escort me up to the nearby supermarket to buy some food for the following day.

What with one thing and another, I was late starting my day today. I set about packing for the trip. I was about halfway when I realized I needed to visit the gym to get an elastic band for exercising. Partway down the hall, I was greeted by one of my doctors who told me in bad French (he is Vietnamese) that the home stay was off. It seems the CLSC would or could not provide the IV services. 

Crash, tinkle, went my hope.

Various people tried to comfort me. This included the OT who hadn’t known it had been cancelled. It was one of the few times I have regretted being on antidepressants as I wanted to cry but was unable to truly let go and bawl. I definitely tried to despite it being a nice sunny day. 

My mood was further darkened by the arrival of the Victim Impact Statement from New Brunswick. It served as a reminder of just what a horrible day it had been on the 2nd of September and how it has changed my life for the worse.

The one good thing that happened today was that l met my former roommate Caroline in the gym. She’s back for more rehab. She was walking between parallel bars without touching or using mechanical aids.