A few days after I found out I was pregnant, I found out my dad had cancer. It was hard time, made harder by the fact that I couldn't tell anyone I was pregnant (except Drek, of course). I was so tired and so nauseous but my dad was even more tired, and even more nauseous.
My dad is better now. He still has cancer, but it is the uncurable kind that works very, very slowly, so the doctors are not concerned. They were concered about the other cancer he had, which was fast-acting and also curable. The chemo was for that cancer. The chemo appears to have worked. He will have to go get tested every three months to make sure it stays that way, but for right now everything looks good. I am no longer tired and nauseous, and neither is my dad.
So, crisis; Over! New crisis; Begin!
I called my mother to tell her we had finally named the baby (it only took four days. I thought it would take a year, we are so quick with this naming thing!). She told me she had been having terrible leg pain for the last two weeks. We talked about it and I came to the conclusion she had; blood clot. So that same day she went into the hospital and yes, she has a blood clot in her leg. Oh! And in her lungs, although that one took another day and another hospital trip to find.
It's ok, she is on medication and will be for the next six months (this sounds familiar) with frequent monitoring, but the doctors are hopeful (very familiar).
Now my legs hurt. This is not new, they hurt all through my pregnancy, but now they REALLY hurt. It's like they are atrophying. I need to go running again!
I wonder if it's coincidence, or if the baby and my parents are somehow linked in a bizarre way. If so, I'm scared to see what happens when she turns sixteen and gets her driver's licence.