Saturday, April 6, 2013

What's up now.

I know I don't need to apologize for my second last post, but I am sorry... it was pretty bad.  But I most certainly have my bad days.  I am "normal" in that regard.

This week, if I decide to focus on the bad, was totally filled with cancer crap.  Tuesday was a funeral for someone who passed away from cancer, Wednesday was my dr's appointment, Thursday, Ebert died of cancer (I know, silly but I swear there isn't a day that goes by!!), Friday we found out about two more young (in there 30's) that are battling with the disease again and for the first time.  Our prayers will be with them as I am sure theirs have been on our behalf.  So, honestly, I did focus on the bad a little, but I also tried to focus on the good, and the great and the blessings that I have.

I started chemo again on Wednesday.  I take 4 horse pills at 6 am.  Have to take them on an empty stomach or after a low fat meal.  So they are most effective I take them early.  Then I set my alarm and get up and eat, because I have to take my next set of chemo pills as close to 12 hours apart as I can.  Well, I don't know about you, but I don't eat at 7 and 7 , or 8 and 8.  The pharmacist said 10 hours is ok.  They are another 10 pills in total.  The same ones I have been on, but a much higher dose.  So far, so good.  I haven't really had any nausea, but I take gravol at the slightest onset because I don't want to feel sick.  I do chemo for two weeks on and one week off.  I have to be careful, just as I was before on chemo around sick people, and if I get a fever for more than an hour, I have to go to the hospital to have my counts checked for infection so I don't die of one.  We did that about 3 times last year, and every time I was fine, but you have to be so careful.

Asked the dr about scans and such, and he said we don't want to over scan.  We just wait and see if new symptoms arise and then we do a scan.  Seriously, I agree with the over scan thing, but it just seems like such a stupid way to treat cancer.  Let's just wait and see if and when it gets worse, then we'll tell you there's really nothing we can do because it's so far gone, and that's how we do it.  I hate cancer.

On the recovery front, I think I am still progressing forward.  I still, obviously, get tired very easily, I am doing the best I can with the kids to have as much patience with them as I possibly can.  Ken and the kids are my life and I need to treat them better than I treat anyone else... why is it that we are always quick to be cranky with the ones we feel we can get away with it, with?!  I have been trying to find the joy and happiness in the moments this week, and I can say that I have.  I have watched my kids with a deeper appreciation of their little selves.  And they are pretty darn cute!

We had a little situation this week, and our family is so darn lucky that I have a babysitter right now who can stay cool, calm and collected under pressure.

Mom and I were making pancakes for me and starting supper on Tuesday night.  Tuesday is our busy day of the week.  K was at dance and W and C were playing in the front yard.  I was telling Mom that I was a little nervous that C was out there under W's "care" and that they were in the front yard period.  She reassured me (so it's all her fault... KIDDING MOM!!!) that we have to let go of little things here and there and they are ok and we are right here.  She's right. 

A few moments later W is screaming his head off followed by C.  I ran to the garage where I knew they were coming in.  I honestly though C got hit by a car and I was just sick!!!!  SICK!!!!  W came rushing in, followed by C, who was holding his bloody little head.  He moved his hand and I freaked... There was a huge gaping hole in his head and you know how the head bleeds.  I came running into the kitchen, C, right behind me and I grabbed a paper towel and slapped it on his head.  W was screaming his head off and I was freaking, Mom yells, "SHUT UP!!!!"  So we did... luckily there was a voice of reason in the room!!  LOL  Seriously.  Mom scooped up C, I don't do crap like that, with hole in bodies and such... I can do blood and poo, but not stuff like that. 

We got W half calmed and outside.  He has asked if C was going to die.  Of course we told him no.  He felt so bad and I felt bad when he asked me if I was mad....  long pause, while actually thinking of the appropriate thing to say.... "No honey.  I'm not mad.  You just need to use your head."  In my head, "Of COURSE I'M MAD!  WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?  WHAT WAS I THIKNING LETTING YOU TWO PLAY OUTSIDE IN THE FRONT YARD TOGETHER?!" 

Mom told me to come into the house and pull the plug on the pancakes.  Done.  I thought she asked me to grab her keys, and I thought she said they were by the cupboard.  I was looking by all the cupboards but I couldn't find them anywhere.  I grabbed our purses and ran back outside frantically told her I couldn't find the keys.  "I have them right here."  Mom said as they dangled from her hand as she held C in her arms.  "Are you ok to drive?"  "Ya."  I said, "I can't hold him like that.  I don't do that type of stuff."  Nice Mom.

On the way to the hospital, C gazed up to gramma and sweetly asked, "Gramma, am I going to die?"  We both chuckled a little and said of course not.  I know W was relieved to hear the answer yet again that his little brother would live.  Mom also remembered that we had brussel sprouts on that I forgot to turn off so we called Ken who was on his way to pick up K from dance and asked him to run home and turn them off... we didn't need a fire while we were gone too!!

We dropped Mom and C off at the doors and she got in right away.  We "checked" in and then went in with Mom and C.  They wrapped a big bandage around his head and put some topical freezing on it to get ready for the needle freezing.  Then he had some medicine and we waited a bit longer.

This is what happened.  There was a PVC pipe under our trailer outside that Ken has started to make a bow and arrow with, but it didn't work out and ended up outside sitting under there.  W grabbed it and threw it to C like a "boomerang" and he missed catching it, so the end of it clipped him in the forehead, causing previously stated wound.

Ken and K showed up at the hospital and we all decided to wait with C.  Seriously, he is one tough kid.  He ONLY cried when he first came running into the house.  Not during freezing at all, not during stitches, not at all.  W cried WAY more than he did, but he felt really, really bad. 

When they took the gauze away to start the stitching you could see C's skull.  I didn't look as you can well imagine, and I though W was going to barf and K started to cry.  I'm sure the Dr's thought we were nuts for all staying.  Whatever. 

10 stitches later the little guy, and the rest of us were ready to go.  Moments like this make me feel like I'm alive and "normal".  I know this doesn't happen every day, but it does happen, and makes my family seem normal.

I am grateful that it wasn't worse than it was.  C is doing really well and it looks like it is healing up nicely.  One of the stitches pulled out the next morning when we were changing the dressing and he didn't even flinch.  Like I said, tough little fart!

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