Anticipation

Today we exhaled and began mentally preparing ourselves for the next stint of chemotherapy. It was a generally relaxing day composed of our now typical activities - a few errands, a Cruckie ride or two (or more), playing with some neighbor friends and some nice time with visitors. Henry was in a pretty good mood today with one exceptional outburst while outside riding Cruckie. I'm still not sure what set him off, but he cried with his head down for what seemed like many minutes. He wouldn't let me approach him and I, of course, didn't feel right walking away. I sat on his truck's hood and waited it out.

I hoped that I was assigning more to his emotions than was plausible, but I imagined some of the same thoughts as I was having, going through his little head. A nondescript feeling of dread, of the feeling that while this was all well and good, it was becoming more difficult to enjoy the closer our re-submersion into the throes of chemotherapy came. It was over as quick as it came and he was happily driving down the street, a blessedly short memory.

Henry loves trucks. He likes the mail truck, the garbage truck, backhoes, bulldozers, tractors of all shapes and sizes, firetrucks, monster trucks and UPS trucks, which he now calls the 'present truck'. Today a package came for Tara and me. I halfway expected this to be a problem for him, but he instead insisted on smashing the little popcorn packaging material in it. True to three-year-old form this 'popcorn' kept him busy at least as long as any toy he's received. Just like at Christmas, the wrapping paper is more entertaining than the gift itself...

Tomorrow we're back at Hopkins for a checkup. They'll draw his blood to make sure his system is where it needs to be for stem cell harvesting and re-entry for chemotherapy. I'm hoping this will be a relatively short visit. I'll have to make use of the time to inquire about some insurance discrepancies, additional supplies that we require and some general questions about what's to come. Over the next four days, we'll administer double doses of G-CSF, the stem cell stimulating drug that will send his cells into overproduction for harvesting. These cells will be saved for the high-dose phase of chemotherapy. Monday evening we'll be at the Children's House again as we expect an early time for a surgery in which he'll have an additional line put in for the express purpose of the stem cell harvesting. He'll be sedated all day in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. The line should then be removed at the end of the day and then I suspect we'll be moved to the Oncology Floor. We're grateful for at least having the weekend to be at home as a family again before beginning Cycle 2.