Unfortunately, Zoe is still very tired and her deterioration is worrying.
While our doctors in Southampton had prescribed us 3 extra days of steroids the time of the trip, always in order to optimize Zoe's state and its travel conditions, we unfortunately have to recognize that once the steroids are over, Zoe is in a great state of fatigue and weakness. If since Christmas she no longer uses her right hand, it is now her right arm that has become almost completely stiff and paralyzed. And for a few days, her right leg that she can hardly bend.
Wearing it is like wearing a goat log as they say, when she loves it so much. But still, sitting in her wheelchair becomes complicated while she's completely stiff. In the bed, a little caress on my arm, and that's the sign that we need to help her return. On the couch, the finger pointing up the sign that it must be traced back as it falls. Difficulties to talk too, and therefore to hear it, while according to the moment of the day, it may be a single word that it will whisper and we will have to understand, often after a few attempts. And we drool a lot, especially when we're focused. We spend our time sitting on the couch watching tv or playing our tablet. We don't play much more, not really surprising when we can't do anything. And when we move alone, it's on four legs, and that's just impossible for me to watch.
One step at a time. One day at a time, always.
Here in Monterrey, waiting for our treatment, we have the chance to be well surrounded and pampered by our wonderful friends Cordelia and her family who wanted to welcome us. All together, we're still laughing, we still love playing with flour when we look at others making cakes, and we still love the little cousins of our Mexican family, so "cute".
But for how long? Every day, every waking up, every moment less well for Zoe, every little cough at the time of eating or drinking and it's fear that goes up, the heart that gets packed. How many times a day I say " it's okay Zoe?"... and how many times I wonder...