The Mask
"The important part of today is that I got my mask and my CT scan," Gilly reports.
We arrived, fasting, at 8:00 a.m. at the Montreal General for a blood test. We do everything together these days! We waited 2 hours for the results (to determine whether Gilly's kidneys could tolerate the dye they would inject). Gilly shloofed in the Lazy Boy, and I read my newest Young Children's magazine, both of us ice cold. At 10:30 the CT scan was done and the mask was built (watch out Jim Carrey; Gilly's ready to star in the next sequel).
Liylah waited patiently at home, and did not even partake in dessert this time (she found some chocolates in Yaron's room yesterday while we were at the MNI, and ended up locking herself in there while we were gone. She learned her lesson. Well, maybe she didn't, but we sure did. I think the Israeli Lila is right; she is training her new family quite effectively).
We received a call from Dr. Sultanem (from the Jewish) informing us that Gilly is not eligible for the study. I suspect that this is the final word on the matter. We intend to go ahead with the treatment regardless.
Gradually, yet steadily, our week filled up with doctors appointments, until they marked every day. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine this sort of life. I suppose no one is prepared for it. Life has changed dramatically for us as a family. Fortunately, we have each other; our bond has strengthened, or so it seems. I believe that the effort it takes to overcome obstacles actually serves to strengthen us, as people. I have shared this with yaron on many occasions when he was disappointed at being cut from a team. My understanding has blossomed; I see that family relationships and friendships tend to prosper when people join one another in facing life's potentially devastating challenges.
Tomorrow, Gilly will receive an injection of B12, and we will make our final decision as to whether or not to head up north for an abbreviated spring break.
We hear that John and the boys will visit no matter where we are. Good thing, because Liylah is anxious to meet Whistler. Whistlers cannot wait to tell her where all the juicy chipmunks hang out.
It's stressful for our friends and family who live at a distance; they cannot fully experience Gilly's grin. Seeing a blog photo just doesn't cut it. It warms my heart to be in his presence. When I go to work or even to the supermarket, my mind and soul remain at home. He is truly an inspiration, so I can only begin to appreciate what it might be like for far off friends and family. Many claim to feel a sense of relief when they see him or speak to him; he sends off positive vibes. Throughout our marriage, he has assured me that everything will turn out just fine; "Don't worry," he'd say. I remained skeptical on many occasions, but he has never disappointed me yet.
One more thing: My Birch Point advisors (Shelley and Judy) have helped me with my spelling. The word is spelled "medulla."
We arrived, fasting, at 8:00 a.m. at the Montreal General for a blood test. We do everything together these days! We waited 2 hours for the results (to determine whether Gilly's kidneys could tolerate the dye they would inject). Gilly shloofed in the Lazy Boy, and I read my newest Young Children's magazine, both of us ice cold. At 10:30 the CT scan was done and the mask was built (watch out Jim Carrey; Gilly's ready to star in the next sequel).
Liylah waited patiently at home, and did not even partake in dessert this time (she found some chocolates in Yaron's room yesterday while we were at the MNI, and ended up locking herself in there while we were gone. She learned her lesson. Well, maybe she didn't, but we sure did. I think the Israeli Lila is right; she is training her new family quite effectively).
We received a call from Dr. Sultanem (from the Jewish) informing us that Gilly is not eligible for the study. I suspect that this is the final word on the matter. We intend to go ahead with the treatment regardless.
Gradually, yet steadily, our week filled up with doctors appointments, until they marked every day. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine this sort of life. I suppose no one is prepared for it. Life has changed dramatically for us as a family. Fortunately, we have each other; our bond has strengthened, or so it seems. I believe that the effort it takes to overcome obstacles actually serves to strengthen us, as people. I have shared this with yaron on many occasions when he was disappointed at being cut from a team. My understanding has blossomed; I see that family relationships and friendships tend to prosper when people join one another in facing life's potentially devastating challenges.
Tomorrow, Gilly will receive an injection of B12, and we will make our final decision as to whether or not to head up north for an abbreviated spring break.
We hear that John and the boys will visit no matter where we are. Good thing, because Liylah is anxious to meet Whistler. Whistlers cannot wait to tell her where all the juicy chipmunks hang out.
It's stressful for our friends and family who live at a distance; they cannot fully experience Gilly's grin. Seeing a blog photo just doesn't cut it. It warms my heart to be in his presence. When I go to work or even to the supermarket, my mind and soul remain at home. He is truly an inspiration, so I can only begin to appreciate what it might be like for far off friends and family. Many claim to feel a sense of relief when they see him or speak to him; he sends off positive vibes. Throughout our marriage, he has assured me that everything will turn out just fine; "Don't worry," he'd say. I remained skeptical on many occasions, but he has never disappointed me yet.
One more thing: My Birch Point advisors (Shelley and Judy) have helped me with my spelling. The word is spelled "medulla."
posted by Gilly at 7:48 PM
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אני מקווה כל טוב. התקשר לי אחר כך. אהוב
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