Today, on General Hospital....

My last three posts have revolved around sickness, and not necessarily Benjamin's. So I'll just say that the entire Fassina - Skira clan is doing much better, and leave it at that. This post is about soap operas, and the one in which we currently live.

There are 12 beds in 8D. Normally the ward is not full, but last week they overflowed on to the 6th floor, where there are extra isolation rooms. This only lasted one day before we were back down to 6 or 7, which is about normal. But imagine all the parents of all these kids sharing one bathroom, one computer (with limited Internet access) and a small kitchen with a communal fridge where every room is assigned either part of one shelf or space in the door. We are very lucky to have all this available to us since the other floors have nothing, but it can get crowded. And since cancer doesn't discriminate, there's all kinds of people in the ward at any given time. Let's face it, no matter what any one says, it's impossible to like everybody.

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I don't like friction and confrontation, so I keep my head down when I see people I'd rather avoid. But that doesn't stop the gossip from flying. And, boy, are there some stories. I'm not going to dish the dirt on my fellow "inmates", so if that's what you're waiting for, you can stop reading right now. But I am now convinced that the original idea for "General Hospital" came about when a writer was stuck in a hospital in close quarters, just as the parents are here in 8D. In no way am I saying that one patient's dad is canoodling with another patient's mom, but that even if you don't want to eavesdrop, you can't help overhearing conversations. And you can only compare treatments and protocols for so long. Eventually, all the personal stuff comes out. After all, we're going to be living with some of these people on and off for the next 4 months. Even the nurses are the first to tell us that often we know more about what's going on than they do.

Yesterday, Benjamin was detached from his IV, and is now a "free" man. His room is his oyster, and he roams everywhere he can. We've had to put the garbage can up on a counter, because that seems to be a favorite destination. He's also fixated on the red call button, having already rung a false alarm to the front desk once. Speaking of false alarms, we were up at 5:30 AM yesterday because a smoke detector malfunctioned in the ward, and we had firemen in full gear tramping up and down the hall. How's that to start your day. Later, Benjamin got some time with the sensory machine (see the picture), a full on interactive light show with music, bubbles, mirrors and fibre-optic cables to play with. He loved it, and hopefully we'll get to play with it again soon. But first, we might get another reprieve.

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Benjamin's counts are on the rise, and the doctors are planning on giving us a few days before moving on to the next phase of treatment. I never thought I'd be saying this, but I can't wait for Benjamin's next marrow aspirate. Then we'll get a true picture of what the prognosis is, and how treatment will proceed. But until then, I'll keep my head low and my ears open for the next installment of my private soap opera.