I just want to be home ...

IV pole before the bags of fluids and/or medicines.

Drip, drip, drip
The IV continues to drip. 
Year in, year out, the life extending medicines enter my body in one form or another.
I am grateful.

But I just want to be home.

As time goes on, each treatment becomes a bit more harsh.
They take more time.
There are more "emergencies" that delay treatments.

The disease marches on.

I just want to be home.

My current infusions take about six hours.  There are lots of reasons for this and I understand them all. 

I just want to be home.

Yesterday I hit a mental wall.  I cried in the last half hour of treatment because I just wanted to be home. 

Yet, another 30 minutes of drip, drip, drip.

The man in the chair across from me had a severe, phlemy cough that scared me due to my own current breathing issues.

I just want to be home.

I want to be with my family and friends.  I want to sit with them in my nest and laugh with them.  I want to share a meal with them. I want to sit with my cat beside me.  I want to just simply be.

I just want to be home.

But when I got home, I was so uncomfortable and so agitated that I couldn't do any of that. 

I could only toss back and forth, trying to get comfortable.  Too hot, too cold, too full, starving yet unable to eat, bloated, stuck on the toilet, hidden away from my family. 

I just want to be home.

I don't know what all this means.  I did get a good night's sleep and I'm feeling much better.

Heavy drugs can mess with you.  Reactions are unpredictable.  Literally ... feeling well to feeling awful can happen very rapidly for me.  I called into the clinic to explain what was happening and they were glad I was home.

Me, too.  I'm glad to be home.