My car has been reparked.

Last week, on the way to Camp Sealth with Lucie for her classroom’s overnight, my hand went numb for about three minutes. Luckily, I recognized it for what it was, and calmly pulled over and called Jack and explained the situation.  He didn’t feel comfortable with me “going off into the wilderness” so I called Matt, my super trooper of a husband, who hustled down (with no pj’s or anything, just some grubby softball sweats — and I gave him my toothbrush and sleeping bag) to the ferry, and took Lucie over to camp (where, incidentally, they had a marvelous time).

I went home and cried.

In reality, a small little incident probably doesn’t mean much, or that things are getting worse…but that’s what it feels like. A few blogs ago I talked about how I get worried if I get too comfortable — if I take my eye off this disease for even a minute, it will sneak past me and strike.

So Denise came over and spent the night- Jack called and got a scan scheduled for the next day (Friday of Memorial Day weekend!)- and everything looks the same. Which is great, but now we know to expect an occasional strange quirk. What wasn’t so great is that my labs were a bit off (kidneys) so the past week has been a week of three hour iv fluid sessions every other day.  The last one is today, and I also get labs, so we’ll find out if this helped.