an ounce of optimism

I slept at the hospital last night--I’ve been doing that the past couple nights. Lex and I have been enjoying our time together--between our late night chats and mini walks, it's been special. I feel like her roommate a little bit. I get her all to myself.

The hospital room is starting to feel like a studio apartment/ hotel--it has all the amenities--2 beds, T.V and DVD player, a desk, a refrigerator and of course a bathroom. Also includes laundry service (specifically for linens) and room service with an abundance of packaged Halva and hummus--deliciously Israeli--the main meals however, aren't so yummy. If it wasn't for regular checkups from doctors and nurses, you'd think we were living like celebrities--but we aren't celebrities and in fact, it hasn't been totally easy--just waiting and waiting for the next clue in this cancer game. But, as we have all been saying, la'at, la'at...slowly, slowly. We will wait and remain cautiously optimistic.

Anyway, at around 3:30am last night, Lex and I woke up, like clockwork, at the same time. We were both thirsty for water--she poured me a glass and then we went back to sleep. At around 9am, I got up and Alexis warned me in my waking hours that we were about to have some company. Two minutes later, nine or ten nurses and doctors walked into the room and stood around Alexis' bed. Two of Alexis' doctors were sharing her story to their colleagues, except, it was all in Hebrew--thankfully I understood what was going on. Alexis signalled to me wanting to make sure that what they were saying was okay...I gave her the thumbs up. They were literally showing her off--that's how good she looks.

After they left, she admitted to me that she felt sort of like an animal at the zoo--I don't blame her. Groups of doctors and nurses and medical students have come to see her--to see what this 27 year old beauty that happens to have cancer looks like. AND, all of them equally impressed with her--but not as much as one of her doctors from the clinic--specifically, Dr. Gazoontite--he is more than impressed with her and his optimism puts all of us at ease.

I ran into him at the elevators on my way out--he was looking at me with a smile on his face--and then he started talking. Still, with a smile on his face he said Alexis is incredible and that he's never seen anyone like her--he continued that most patients he has seen don't have the same fight Alexis has--"and boy that smile," he added. He smiled again and got off the elevator.

Things for everyone, both us here in Israel and I am sure for some of you at home have been tough--cancer is tough. So, when we get an ounce of optimism, all negative thoughts are immediately replaced by the positive. That's what we want. That's what Alexis wants. And too be honest, I think Alexis is tougher than cancer.