Day 18 - The "H" Word

I'm blogging this from my kitchen table. The last time I was here, the leaves were not yet out, I had just finished my semester at EIU, and Mason McGrath was still 3.

We made it home. It wasn't no easy task, lemme tell ya. But Samson is now in his very own room.

I have some excellent pictures from the day, but dammit, the blog-gods are not with us tonight. The uploader is not uploading, and I'm really not interested in sitting in front of my laptop for a long period of time. To be honest, I'd rather be chilling out on my back porch with my wife. I will do this post haste. But first, a very quick update. Tomorrow I will add photos, and fill in the gaps... again from my glorious, beautiful, kitchen table. Or maybe my couch...

At rounds this morning the Doctors determined that what we were doing was working, and could be done from home. Antibiotics, vest, and inhaled Pulmozyme. So, out we go. Or, "a la casa" in the words of Dr. Rivera.

Long story short, we couldn't leave until about 5pm. We waited, we waited, we did a hearing test, we waited, we napped, we filled out a form, they took out Sam's PICC line (he screamed...!), we packed up our stuff with glee. We finally took two trips out to my dad's old truck of our stuff that accumulated over the past 18 days. Then...

First stop was McDonald's on Lindell. We both had skipped lunch for a variety of reasons and we were crazy with hunger. We ate for what seemed like an hour.

Sam ate just about the entire way home. That's a three hour drive's worth of snacks.

We watched the sun set to our left from Interstate 57. It was magnificent.

Mommy had a sign that she made with Ozzie (he was in bed) taped to the garage door. Sam was exctatic to see not only Mommy, but our minivan. Our neighbors came out to say hi and offer a hug. (We've got some of the best neighbors.)

We're home.

We're not cured.

We know we'll be back.

Sam is still coughing.

We are happy to be together.

No pictures can capture how that feels.