Light reflects into the night sky from other hospital rooms with the lights shining bright. Day 3 in the hospital is complete.

Richard had a blood transfusion all through the night until noontime Friday. He was strong and felt fine. We were surprised his levels were so low. He received twice as much blood as he’d gotten the last couple of times.
He’s doing great.
Everything is going to plan. We’ll miss watching all of the Olympic athletes as he rests and recovers.
Thursday was a day full of tests. Everything is being ticked off the list one by one. Texts and calls full of love and support make us smile. This journey always has something to show us.
We will celebrate our 34th wedding anniversary quietly in the hospital. We don’t need anything loud or boisterous. We just need one another. It doesn’t matter where we are as long as we have one another. A doctor came for a visit yesterday. We hadn’t met him before. He’d heard about our upcoming jubilant day and wanted to know how we felt about spending it in the hospital. I told him we could be anywhere in the world and it wouldn’t matter where we were as long as we’re together. He smiled. I joked we could have a candlelit dinner here in the room. He liked that idea. He suggested we go to the observation deck and have our candlelit dinner there. I told him we could order steak from room service and he loved that idea. He wants us to have a special day, no matter that we’re in the middle of a cancer hospital. Doctor’s orders. As long as we’re together to continue adding years, well that’s all that matters to us. We don’t need fancy and frills, just a smile and a snuggle in between labs and vitals.
Richard is walking, moving furniture, and doing everything for himself.
We’d planned to return the rental car, fly home and drive back before this hospital admission, but we all know what they say about well laid plans.
We have all the test results from Thursday. The doc is happy with the outcome. So we continue waiting, appreciating our time together, and trying not to be bored of hospital food.
We were told no on the excursion to the observation deck, which isn’t surprising. At some point I’ll make him a cheesecake, whether I make it and bring it to the hospital or wait until he’s released. I love that we’re flexible about everything.
11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. 12 Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. 13 You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.
Jeremiah 29:11-13
NIV