It's sunday, and I think things have finally quieted down for the moment. For an off week, meaning not a chemo week, this one has been filled with it's fair share of drama that was not needed or welcomed. I do believe my life has become a very badly made t.v. movie and I can't seem to shut it off. Tuesday I knew was going to be busy. Kev had an appointment with his oncologist and my dad was set to be released from the hospital, the infection in his leg finally under control. It went as smoothly as these things could. We had a relatively uneventful meeting, no side effects from chemo, no weight gain but no weight loss either, scans booked for May 9th after three more rounds. All this was expected. Thankfully this time there were no surprises. I took Kev home and got him settled, then went to my parents place to get the kids. My brother had picked them up from school, dropped them off to my mom, then he went off to the hospital to get my dad. By the time I arrived, they were all sitting down to dinner, everything was good. Two days later that ball that I've been avoiding lately dropped again. By thursday, my mom was very ill, deliriously ill in fact. My immobile dad did the only thing he could think of to do, he called an ambulance. They took her to York Central with a serious but unknown infection. All I could think was that this was some kind of joke, an unfair joke someone was playing to see how much one person can handle before breaking..snapping. It took them three days to figure out what was wrong with my mom. The diagnosis was Strep A infection, very serious. This is the infection that can develop into what is known as flesh eating disease. It was well on it's way to becoming that very thing. They believe they caught it in time, the call my dad made to 911 most likely saved her life. I shouldn't have been shocked to get the call from the public nurse telling me that we had all been compromised and must go on antibiotics as a preventative measure. This was especially important because Kev was immune compromised as it is. Really?? Seriously?? I said that out loud, looking up at the sky, needing an answer. I didn't get one. This week coming is another chemo week. I am afraid to ask the question of what could possibly go wrong, so I don't. Come on Cath, pick yourself up, dust yourself off and continue to walk forward. It's all I can do.