We're home for a while

We got home yesterday evening after many doctors debated the best course of treatment for Brett - IV antibiotics or oral.
Eventually the microbiologists had the last word. Tablets in hand, we made a sharp exit before they could change their minds.
We got home, had an indian takeaway and watched lots of rubbish that had been saved on the telly box thing. (I'm never really aware of its existence until someone has a hissy fit because the memory left is at critical - whatever!)Brett woke up at 5am and marched into my room to announce he was awake.
If you think cancer mums are angelic think again
My gentle response to him was to yell loudly 'what the flam dunkit do you want me to do about it, and when did you lose the ability to knock?'

Brett decided to make a retreat to the comfort of the living room and watch more junk on tv.
Poppy was awoken at 6:30am and at 7 am was vomiting in the bathroom.
She quickly flopped back into bed leaving me to make the, all to regular call, to her schools attendance line.
Note to self - No takeaway food on a school night at 8:30 pm and expect Poppy to still go to bed at 9pm.

So by 7am I was sitting on the sofa in my fluffy dressing gown desperately clutching a cup of coffee, talking (well listening really) to a teen who had already been up 2 hours, whilst silently wishing I had opted for the 'lie in' today.
Bloody psychic husband.

I have spent most of the day on the sofa. I managed to get dressed, to make toast and to make numerous cups of coffee. Each cup held the hope of giving me some much needed energy.
Alas the energy didn't come.

I seem to collapse when Brett comes out of hospital. Brett walks in the door and the adrenaline I've been living off for so long, walks straight out.

I have some much to do and so little time to do it before transplant starts on the 1/11.
Never mind, must go, they're putting on more Big bang theory - today is definitely a day off.