almost two hours

We got to Prosperity Medical Center at about 11AM, and I didn't get a "pick us up!" phone call from Dad until 1PM. Dad says that Mom didn't have the chance to enjoy a private room this time; she was out in a larger room with many other patients, all hooked up to IVs for various reasons.

I remember walking through that room the first time Mom had an Avastin infusion; the room is on the way to the kitchen. On that first day, we were told that a whole spread had been laid out in the kitchen for the taking-- pastries, doughnuts, cookies, chips, fruit juice, soda, etc. Sure enough, there it all was, and I brought back a bundle for us all to share. But on Mom's second and third visits, this wasn't the case. I joked with Dad that the medical center must dangle the junk food in front of patients on their first day of treatment in order to lure them further into the health care web.

We're back home, lunch has been served, and Dad's off getting the minivan's tires-- all four of them-- replaced. Mom seems fine after her Avastin session; she's not very talkative, but she's aware and functioning.


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