Can't believe how I went downhill after Sunday - which was a lovely morning, standing around talking to friends after the service. By Monday afternoon I had a temperature of 100, saw my doctor who diagnosed urinary tract infection #8 (since the transplant). Tuesday eve I spiked 102.3, which is very high for me. Eventually this went into sweating and then cycled down to my average temp, 97.5, then back up. I am waiting to hear that the hospital has a bed for me, so the doctor can start IV antibiotics.
Yet this morning as I struggled tiredly to get dressed, I heard Tom in the kitchen calling out to Natasha in the high voice he uses, "Piggy, piggy, piggy - where's that pig?" Among her treasure trove she has a little stuffed cat toy, a pig, and loves to chase that and retrieve it for Tom. I thought how human this was, how homey, and I am especially glad to have him when I'm sick. And just for a moment I thought, Somehow this moment is perfect.