A rough 24

Rob is at the hospital with Steven tonight. Steven has had a rough go of this round. Last night he was throwing up worse than he ever had. This was supposed to be the easy chemo!!! What happened? Not only that, but he isn't clearing the methotrexate as fast as he has in the past. My Easter-at-home dreams are slipping away. I won't give up hope yet, who knows what the morning will bring?

I hope it brings a methotrexate level low enough that he can have a transfusion tomorrow. I suspect that his low red blood cell counts aren't helping our situation here. Maybe new blood can solve some problems. I tried to help him do homework this morning, but he had such a hard time concentrating, he was even crying. It broke my heart because he cries so rarely. So we stopped homework and I gave him the Ipad. Somehow he manages to concentrate on that.

And then there is me. I'm not a big crier either, but today has been rough. I can't go 20 minutes without breaking down into tears. It is so hard to see him suffer, and so hard to see other people suffer. It's going to be an Ambien night for sure--my mind is racing over statistics and treatments and the future and the present.

The highlight of my day was taking the girls to the hospital to see Steven. They loved seeing the place we always talk about--"at the hospital." They even got to see the life-flight helicopter land out Steven's window. As we were getting ice from the ice machine, Laura said, "The hospital is so so so fun." As she said this, a bald and sickly little girl about her age was pulled past her in a wagon. I don't think Laura saw, but the contrast just struck me and I cried, again. I don't think "fun" is the word I would use.