Day 9

I don’t know how she does it. In fact, I don’t know how most stay-at-home moms do it – especially during the summer, when the kids are home all day. While I could classify today as a ‘fun’ day with the kids, I’m exhausted. I truly have a newfound respect for Courtney. It’s not that I didn’t respect or admire what she did before. It’s just that now the respect is greater and the admiration deeper. I only wish it didn’t take such a crummy trial for that to happen.

After getting the kids to bed, I came to the hospital to spend the night with Courtney. She wants everyone to know that “getting the chemo is easy.” All she has to do is nothing…except endure a painful botched PICC line and the installation of tubes just below her collar bone. So far she hasn’t noticed any adverse side effects. Her nose was a little dry yesterday, but nothing some nose drops won’t help. She misses her bed at home, but at least she has her pillows. She says more than once a day that this just doesn’t seem real. I think we both have a hard time believing this is really happening. Maybe that’s a blessing. Maybe it’s easier to bear when the full reality or gravity of the trial doesn’t completely sink in. You try your best to suppress the negative thoughts and not think about the words ‘leukemia’ or ‘cancer’ or how long this all might last or the separation of your family, but they are impossible to keep away all the time. The uncomfortable hospital bed or the beeping of an IV pump or the sight of a bag of blood dripping into the IV all have a way of reminding you why you’re here.

As for the chemo, it’s still doing what it’s supposed to be doing. Her WBC’s have dropped to within normal range for the first time in almost three weeks. She still has neutrophils and some lymphocytes. That’s good. It won’t be long before everything is down to zero. What were really waiting for is for the chemo to end (hopefully by Friday) and her counts to go back up to normal, with NO blasts.

I feel like I’ve lied about the whole “she can’t see her kids anymore”. But truly, I believe prayers have been answered. Since she still has some bacteria fighting neutrophils, I brought the kids to see her again today. It was that or take them to church. I’m sure Heavenly Father understands. After all, it’s thanks to Him that the kids could come. It was a good visit as everyone got to hang out in a small family room and eat Subway that Courtney’s mom bought. I think being able to see the kids and spend time with them really lifts her spirits, and makes this whole thing ‘slightly more bearable’. That’s one notch above ‘unbearable’ on the bearability chart.

We can’t get over how well our children have adjusted. They really are helping us to get through this, along with those who have helped us to care for them. They still make us laugh (and cry and yell) every day. Case in point: This evening, as they were getting ready for bed, Emma and Miranda were arguing about whether Emma was poor or not. I don’t have any idea how it started. When Miranda walked away, Emma said, “Daddy, Miranda says that I’m not poor, but I am because I don’t own anything. Daddy, could you buy me something at the store so that I can own something. Because I don’t own anything…except a Dora blanket, and a Dora game, and another Dora game, and a Dora lunchbox. But that’s all, only some Dora stuff.” I tried to tell her that she has lots of stuff, like her clothes and her bed and other toys, but she didn’t buy it. She’s convinced that she’s poor. It made me laugh. It’s nice to be able to laugh at times like this. Thank you for the thoughts and prayers – they really are making a difference.