Chemo, Christmas, and a stay in the Hospital
Things seemed to settle down a bit, and then Zach started having some redness around the top of his incision on the 23rd and watched it. Then he woke up early on the 24th, and it was much worse - the scar opened and was draining infected liquid. So we made our way to the hospital - New Britain General this time, and the experience was night and day compared to our last and final UCONN visit.
We walked in, and the ER doctor immediately requested a surgical consult and ordered a scan. The scan showed two abscesses in his abdomen. So he was then admitted to the hospital and started on IV antibiotics, and interventional radiology placed a drain in one abscess and aspirated the other abscess.
Zach stayed in the hospital from the 24th to the 26th, so Silas and I brought Christmas gifts to the hospital, and we celebrated there. It was different than we thought it would be, but it was unique, and as Silas said, “It’s okay; it makes it more memorable.” He is right; we will never forget the Christmas we spent opening gifts in the Family Room at New Britain General.
Silas and I made snowflakes to decorate Zach’s hospital room on Christmas Eve, which improved Zach’s spirits immensely.
Yes, the Family Room also doubles as a CPR training room.
We have never been a family that says Christmas can only be celebrated on the 25th. Since the expectation at his work is to share the responsibility of working holidays to be a good teammate, we have always been fine with celebrating on a different day.
For our family Christmas is about the gift of Jesus and being together no matter the location and no matter the day.
-Amber
Words from Zach…
This was truly the most memorable Christmas since my childhood — not because it was all happiness all the time — but because the chance to spend it together as a family was more valuable to me than it has ever been. When I was diagnosed late last year, the prospect of spending this Christmas together seemed genuinely remote. I think back to last Christmas when this news was so fresh and the journey so uncertain, and it feels like the entire holiday season just didn’t happen. Those were some of the quietest family dinners I can remember, and if you can sleepwalk through an entire month, that’s what happened for me. Fear and sadness drained the joy from nearly every moment of that season, and if you asked me to recount a single detail from the second half of December 2022, I don’t know that I could.
A year later, many things are still the same. The future is uncertain. Each scan is a fork in the road that feels like the most important thing in the world…until the next one. And there are still times when it all feels a bit unreal.
But so much has changed over the last year as well. We feel the full range of emotions nearly every day, but those include a deep and abiding joy that we couldn’t have imagined at this time last year. We are overwhelmed by the love and generosity of those around us, and to say that your kindness and care have meant everything would be a great understatement. Your concern has touched us to our core.
Uncertainty has turned into an appreciation for what we’re doing in the moment, and it has changed how we value time with family and friends.
Cancer has brought us close to some wonderful people in the midst of their own journeys. The exchange of experiences and emotions has been one of the most painful and simultaneously meaningful experiences of our lives.
And each day seems to reveal new ways to find God’s purpose and mission in this season of life.
I spent much of last winter wishing for my “old life” back. I’m hopeful that the last year has taught us to recognize the blessings that could only come with this new life, even if those blessings don’t include fried food or craft beer.
Thank you again for all of your support. Words don’t capture what you all have meant to our family. We hope that you’ve had a wonderful holiday season so far and wish you the best in the year to come.
-Zach