The urologist called tonight; he left a message as we were in minor crisis mode and nobody felt like answering the phone. Which is irritating me now because I really wish that I had talked to him. The message was at least a little unclear but basically said what we had been hoping to hear for, literally, MONTHS. We can stop giving N his prophylactic antibiotic. This is GOOD news.
So why do I feel so . . . . odd? I should be happy. I should be *thrilled.* We should be calling our moms and e-mailing our friends - it's done it's done it's done.
Except it's not really. The antibiotic is done. But what now? I think I've been so focused on getting to the end of this road that I hadn't really spent much time thinking about what the next path was going to be like. Maybe if I'd had a plan, was ready to set out on the next phase, had at least been able to ask Dr. Cheng "who do I call to make the next appointment?" I would feel less . . . odd.
Because he still only has one good kidney and that's always going to be an issue. Maybe I'm more concerned about that than I realized. It's not life-threatening, it's something he can live with, he'll likely never have to worry about it. But it's still there.
So even though the reflux is gone and the antibiotic is no longer necessary, we're still in a maintenance mode of sorts. We still have decisions to make (will we ever let him ski?) and dietary concerns and as he gets older, I'm sure we'll face other questions I haven't thought about.
But I certainly expected to feel at least happy about this news. Because it's exactly what we've been wishing for.
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