D.H. Lawrence advised that “it is no good casting out devils. They belong to us. We must accept them and be at peace with them.” Each of us harbors a demon. Jordan’s is a cancer. It will not be ignored and for the moment, she cannot cast it out. So tonight, she weeps.We imagined tonight would be a happy occasion. She is home. It was the goal she rallied about all day.

Jordan was discharged this afternoon. She is resting comfortably at home. Getting her settled and sprucing up a house that has been home to two bachelors is a major undertaking. I’ll post more soon.

She’s bored and she wants to go home. Being awake is taking a toll. She doesn’t enjoy the hospital. Every time I move around the room she asks me where I’m going. Then she asks if she can come home with me. On the bright side, she’s giggling again. She’s back to recounting obscure comedic moments from her favorite films. Then her face sours and she laments being connected to wires and tubes.

Jordan’s surgery was a success. She handled it bravely, only complaining in pre-op that she was hungry. When I told her she couldn’t eat anything until after the surgery, she replied, “that stinks!” When we returned to her side about an hour later, the first words out of her mouth were, “I’m hungry.” She devoured a purple popsicle and asked for pancakes. We took that as a good sign.She’s been sleeping well, and today was by far her most verbal.

Her eyes were open when I walked through the door. She fixed her gaze on me with one brow arched, the way she so often does when sizing me up. I glanced at Nettie to make sure what I was seeing was real. “She’s awake … and she’s talking,” Jeanette advised. “That’s great! How ya doin’, Jordan?” “Gooood,” she replied while turning her attention to another corner of the room.