Tomorrow morning we go in for The Boy's chemo #3. It's 3 out of 30. So we're making progress.
It is possible that it will just be three days and two nights this time. That's the "norm" for this chemo. I'm hoping for him to be discharged "on time" but I won't be surprised, or TOO disappointed, if he isn't. I can't get too bummed out if things don't go exactly right because, as you see, not everything does. If everything went right all the time, I wouldn't be writing this blog.
One of the infusions is six hours, on the first and second day. The other is the one that he gets each time he has chemo, which is a one hour infusion with his blood pressure taken every 15 minutes. This isn't so much fun because the nurses try to put the cuff on and leave it on a timer and you KNOW that The Boy won't keep that cuff on while he is busy playing.
I am excited that my mother is coming in again. Her commitment is amazing. It's almost as if she wants David's chemo time to be a break for us. Not the whole time, of course, but she wants us to be able to go out, and we get the house to ourselves while she stays with The Boy.
It's been a reasonable 4 days with The Boy, being at home, not working. I miss work. I miss my kids. I saw a tin of cookies given to me by one of my little girls at school. Hopefully I'll get to see a concert in the spring, although by then I'll be as big as a house, and I never even got to tell the kids that I am pregnant again. If any of them read my blog, which I doubt, they can tell each other.
I was good this week about cleaning. I did the dishes when I was supposed to, I kept the floors clean in the areas where The Boy plays, and I put his toys away almost every day. Right now, though, I'm not feelin' it. I think I'll straighten up tomorrow after I leave the hospital.