Up early, on the road, on the planes (plural, because it took two take-offs in Texas, from Austin to Dallas-FortWorth, and then Dallas-Fort Worth to Hartford, Connecticut), and then in the car twice (from Hartford airport to the New York grandparents, and then from the New York grandparents to our New York home); that was this week’s day of rest. And you know what? I got stronger as the day went on. Normally, a day’s travel (like the trip down), needs another day’s recovery. Not this time. There were wheelchairs and carts available in the airports, and other than two trips to the rest room with the walker, I barely had to walk at all. Both flights made great time and landed early, and the entire trip home was thankfully uneventful. I was able to sit still and doze and read on the plane, and the hardest problem we had on the way home was trying to find some place for supper after we’d landed.


My reunion with my not so little girl was special, and we both started crying as soon as we saw each other. Two weeks without her mother is a very long time to an eleven-year-old, so I completely understood her tears. Two weeks without her daughter is a very long time to a mother too, and the only difference between us is that I had so much to go through, and was so busy, that I was able to set aside my emotions and put them on hold. By Saturday though, when the Clinic was over and the pressure had ended, I’d reached my own limit, and I was as ready to see Joelle as she was ready to see me.


Dad wasn’t so affected by this time apart as Joelle and I were, mostly because he travels so much on business that it didn’t seem all that unusual to him. A little longer than normal perhaps, but not terribley unusual. For a homeschooling mom and daughter who’d never been separated before to this extent, it was a very long time, and we are both extremely happy to be reunited. Molasses (our dog) was also thrilled, to see Paul anyway, though she’s been a little stand-offish with me. Have I changed so much? Maybe my smell has, and it may be that she can sense and/or smell the detoxification process. Paul says he thinks I might not be giving off the same smell, which to a dog is important. That’s a theory I can’t prove, but which makes sense; I just know Molasses was overjoyed to see Dad but hardly paid any attention to me, the person she always spent the most time with.


When we arrived home I soon learned that our two males cats had been, and still were, dealing with a little loneliness problem as well, but they dealt with that in another way: They attached themselves to me in a very short time. We went right to bed after we got home, which was around 10:00 PM New York time. At 1:30 AM, when I awoke for a bathroom break, I had two white paperweights (sheet-weights?) holding down the comforter: Mac and Marsh. My often less than socialable cats were happier to see me than my much more socialable dog. Go figure!


On a final note, I finally got some sleep! Seven hours total for my first night home, which seems like forever to someone as sleep deprived as I’ve been. My day of rest finally turned into my first real night of rest, and I got up feeling good. Tonight I’ll give a status report on how I feel, how I’m walking, and what, if anything, is new. Talk to you then.

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