When I am in recovery mode, poor little Otis seems to misbehave more than normal, and he doesn’t seem to like to be too close to me. I wonder if he can smell the chemo, and if it just stinks to his doggie-senses.
Jacqui too, growing by the minute, has had some strange pregnancy-related side effects. Not to mention the exhaustion from caring for me, Otis, and the growing baby–all at the same time–Jacq has suffered from intense leg cramps which leave her sore, sometimes for days. They almost always happen about an hour before we are supposed to wake up in the morning, and it almost always goes like this: I am in a deep sleep, usually dreaming of getting a haircut, and I am torn from the barber’s chair by Jacqui yelling, “OW, OW, OW, OW, LEG, LEG, LEG,” which apparently is the universal call by pregnant women for rousing their husbands from slumber to massage their cramped up legs. After rubbing Jacqui’s calf for a few minutes, I am permitted to go back to sleep for a while.
While the doctor has told us that these cramps are a normal side effect of carrying around extra pounds and of changing body chemistry, given my limited ability to take care of Jacq in these final few months of her pregnancy, I actually kind of like this routine. It is one of my few opportunities to return, at the bare minimum, what Jacqui has done for me these last few months–the staying with me in the hospital on an air mattress, the nursing me back to health, the walking up and down the stairs to make me food when I can barely sit up in bed, and, of course, her driving to NYC in the middle of the night to get some fresh bagels.
None of this surprises me. But I am so in love.