Jeff came home again on Sunday afternoon. Just in time for the chaos and hilarity that is "Decompression" (basically a Burning Man reunion) to overtake our neighborhood. Decompression is one thing I won't miss about San Francisco when we leave here. That list of things I won't miss is short, so it's perversely comforting to encounter those few things that I dislike about SF. Makes me feel marginally better about moving.
I didn't see much of Jeff in the hospital this past round due to work conflicts and both girls having appointments (first fillings (boo!) for Stella and first baby PT session for Lydia to strengthen her neck and counter torticollis) during the times I otherwise might have been able to visit. From what I've seen, and it's still too early to say for certain, methotrexate does seem to have wreaked less havoc on Jeff's system than R-EPOCH. He was extremely exhausted for a couple days, but fatigue is pretty much all he has felt thus far. Time will tell if his blood counts drop (which would be bad since I think our whole family is coming down with a cold) or if he has any mouth pain. Here's hoping that's over - forever.
In other news, Jeff's hair is beginning to re-emerge. Peach fuzz, yay!
I would write more but I'm on a crowded train and would prefer to focus on turning away from the dude who has placed his armpit in my face.
Another thing I won't miss about SF: the Muni T(urd) Line.