I know that Day 9 of chemo and Day 12 (?) of hospital stay are faaarrr from even seeing "there."
But today was one of those days when Sam asked to go home about a million times.
Not because there was anything particularly difficult today.
He slept in.
There weren't too many visitors. (Which can be both exhausting but exhilarating, so I suppose this was a part of it perhaps.)
Side effects were relatively minimal and there was a LOT of time "off the pole," unhooked from the IV.
I think he is just starting to feel the reality of how long this is going to be.
And so he started to wallow a little.
He pointed out that even when his sibs come to visit, they don't get to stay very long.
He pointed out that my one hour trip to shower at the Ronald McDonald House was an inconvenience to him. (Even long after I had returned.)
He pointed out that my insistence on exercise and water and food were horrifically unreasonable.
He pointed out how "little" time he gets just sitting in bed playing his games or watching TV. (due to my unreasonable demands on him.)
He pointed out that the letters and packages are fun and make him happy but that all he really wants is his family. (cute, huh?)
It's remarkable how much this is making all of my children appreciate each other more. I would prefer they learned that appreciation in another way....but oh well.
He spent a ton of time on FaceTime this afternoon/evening, with the family.
Shabbat was quiet and unremarkable.
When he wants to go home my heart just breaks. But I know we are so blessed to be here, so lucky to have good doctors who got us here, who figured out what was wrong, who know how to treat it and don't panic and tell me that weird things are actually "normal" in this bizarre world of leukemia treatment. And so I plug away at it...wishing to snuggle my kid who hates to be kissed and relishing the FaceTime moments because he lets me lay down next to him on the bed and I can pretend we are snuggling and he doesn't notice. And sometimes I sneak in a kiss and let me tell you, those of you who know Sam best can tell you, what a feat this is. And I know, deep down, this is going to be ok. His frustrating stubbornness is going to see us all through. There's no rolling over from my Sam...he will argue the damn leukemia out of his body.
Anyway, medically he is doing great.
All his counts are going in the right direction (down) and he is probably due for a blood transfusion tomorrow. While that sounds all Twilight-ish to me, I'm sure it will be just as lowkey as the chemo is. Consent forms are all signed...just waiting for a handsome Dr. Cullen to walk in with some red stuff. (Probably not. Oh well, a gal can dream, right? The pharmacist is awfully handsome. I'm a married spud...)
I think I just need a little break.
|I love this shot...|
|Beating me at air hockey. Too bad the thing doesn't actually keep score.|
|Wow. We have actually moved over into the entryway and covered up a poster...THANK YOU to everyone.|