Half-Way There

All day on Friday, I was in state of epic anticipation.

It was palpable. Every staff member would mention it. "I hear you might go home tomorrow!"

And I was trying not to get Sam's hopes up.

It was a lost cause for my own. They were TOTALLY up.

I took everything down off the walls.
I packed things up.
I made plans for more packing.
I had Anne drop off some luggage on her way through town.

And I breathed.
All. Day. Long.

Luckily, we had a few visitors to distract us.

Sam's kindergarten teacher came to visit and it was awesome. Sam was so excited to see her - he has been asking about her all visit all week long.

He told her the whole story of Harry Potter. She listened in that awesome patient-kindergarten-teacher way.

 And one of my lifelong friends, Jennie, came with her son Lex. (When I told Sam that Jennie and I were in first grade together, I don't think that he actually believed that once upon a time I was a first grader...but I digress.)

Before bed, I asked Sam, "are you looking forward to going home?"
Sam: "Yes. But I'm going to miss some people here."
Me: "Really!?"
And he listed a few of his favorite staff members. I was totally blown away.

Locked in the same room for 14 days (that's how long our isolation ended up being), in the hospital for 25, and he had created relationships that he would miss. It sounds so strange to say this, but I'm so glad that he has found friendship here. That he feels loved here. Not just by those of us who knew him "before." But by the people who are helping to make him better. I firmly believe that my children can never have too many people to love them. I'm so glad that Sam has this new circle of strength to add to the ones he already has. 

And then I was up all night.
Every time a staff member came in, I briefly woke up. Is it time for the lab results?
No, it's only 2am. Or 5am. Or....

Finally the resident came in. Without the results.
I almost lost my mind.
Finally at about 8:30am, she came back.

140.

He did it.
I almost leaped out of my skin.
I nearly hugged the doctor.
(Turns out, his labs were actually the last to come back today. One of the docs told me that it was the first one she had checked and it was the last. to. come. back. Oy!)


Sam was still asleep.
"We won't wake him," the doctor said.

Right.

Five minutes later....he was dancing the going-home dance.

Such a cool cat.

Nurse L. (and her trainee) changing Sam's dressing before we went home.

One dressing change and a whole bunch of other hospital details later, including a stop at the Ronald McDonald House to check ourselves out, a lunch stop, and we were on our way.

A serious discussion with Karen, who helped us move our stuff home

Home.
It's where we want to be.
I thought Sam would roll around in the grass like a newly-freed puppy, he was so happy to be here.

And so, we are half-way there. Two rounds down.
Can it really be half-way over? I keep holding my breath. I haven't quite let it out yet.

So far...so good.

Knowing you are all out there? It helps us all so much.
We are so very blessed.

Quick medical stuff:

Tentative schedule...
Monday - blood draw. This will tell us if he is ready for the bone marrow biopsy.
Tuesdsay - scheduled bone marrow biopsy and lumbar puncture. It was so lovely to not have this procedure at the beginning of our last admission and the doctors agreed that outpatient was best.
Thursday - the First Day of School. Assuming all counts are good, all things go well on Tuesday, Sam is feeling up to it....he will go. No lie, my hopes are totally on this one.
Friday - Admission for Round 3.

Things don't always go as planned.

But for now...we drink from the cup of measured joy.