This is the new normal: Wake up at 5, or 6, or 7, and take the medicine out of the refrigerator. Depending on the time and where I have to be that day, maybe go back to bed for an hour. Or maybe get ready for work while Bud sleeps. After an hour, we’re both up. We sleepily assemble what I call “the works”: two syringes of saline, one of Heparin, the IV tube, the bag of Vancomycin, some alcohol swabs. We make sure the syringes and the IV line are clear of bubbles. The tube from the port in Bud’s arm goes straight into his heart and, as the home health-care professional pointed out when she taught us how to do this, we don’t want to pump air into his heart. I don’t really want to pump anything into his heart, but nonetheless, this is what I now do, twice a day, at regular 12-hour intervals: send 1.25 mg of high-octane antibiotics straight into my husband’s blood.