Bitter-sweet Home Coming with an Emphasis on Bitter

Florida... 4 days of being in beautiful sunshine, cool breezes, fresh juices all morning long with citrus we picked from the trees in the backyard, and simply maximizing my enjoyment of every available minute. My first day there I exercised and sat in the sauna for so long.... then took a slow, hot shower and even blow-dried my hair (something I never do). Most importantly, I didnt wear a watch or care how long anything took.... Second day started with a magnificent yoga and meditation class which had an unbelievable flow and calming, elongating effect on my body. Then we went to the beach which was simply amazing. I stretched out and layed in the sun, sat in the shade with a book, and walked along the shore. Gideon had the time of his life, and mirrored my calm happy face as he built sand castles, dug in the sand, ran back and forth to the ocean collecting shells and water, and even went all the way in the water (which he's normally terrified of) and played ball with my mom. Then we took a walk along the pier... after nearly 4 hours at the beach, we headed to the pool for a swim and jacuzzi and then took hot showers. Day 3 I took Gideon to the pool for some mommy-son time and he told me I was the nicest mommy in the world :-) Then I took an evening yoga class that was super-relaxing, and went home to a glass of wine and a very nice dinner of wild salmon in a yogurt-herb dressing and steamed asparagus that my mom and I prepared together. Day 4 I got a manicure and pedicure and a deep tissue massage that left my brain and body complete jello. Let me just say that it was an amazing time out. And I'm thrilled I did it.

Then, the homecoming... I walk in the door to find the baby looks glassy-eyed and her forehead is super-hot. I take her temperature and the thermometer shoots to 104 in a matter of seconds... yes, she was running a super-high fever that my doting husband and mother-in-law didn't notice. And who knows for how long. Then Mark walks in, home from chemo, and looking as pale as a ghost with a curled lip and begging, sad eyes that do not hide that he is disgusted, shaky and chilled. And Mark had earlier regailed me with the news that they see more tumor in his liver that apparently the surgeon mistook for cysts. Wonderful. This was all topped off by the baby crying every 20 minutes at night. Each time my eye lids managed to walk me into a dream state, I was abruptly pulled back into what my life is now and the stress level percolated back up inside me, from the pit of my stomach, into my chest and shoulders, and the elongated, peaceful body I came home with was curled back into a familiar angry, hunched over defensive posture. Mad at my fate. Mad at Mark. Just plain mad....