I just realized that tomorrow is the one-month-iversary of Amanda's incarceration. It was the afternoon of April 5 when we went to the St. Mary's Emergency Room, and now we're just waiting for her neutrophil counts to stabilize before she can come home. They might biopsy her hip one more time, just to make sure she remembers that she is, after all, still sick.
Of course, the way they've been dangling carrots and yanking them away, they might just surprise her tomorrow morning with a fresh round of chemo and 3 more weeks in lock-up.
Tomorrow is also her head-shaving appointment. Alastair and I will go and see her after it's done, and I can only hope he repeats one of his first ever complete sentences, uttered at 20 months to me the morning after one of my own head-shavings: "Daddy hair look funny."