It's 8:47 PM and I'm in bed. I'd laugh at myself, but it's so not funny.
Before I move on with the day's update, I have to give a 'big deal' kind of report. After stressing much of the morning and afternoon, calling all sorts of doctors, arranging for titers, checking immunization records and sprouting more gray hairs (seriously, I just looked and there are at least 4 more of them along my part), we realized two important truths. One, Abby actually DID receive the varicella vaccine. BOTH shots, too. And the boys each received one shot; since the second is given at the 4-year appointment and Logan's was scheduled for the week we found out about the tumor and Isaac is only 2, they're essentially up to date. (Well, Isaac is anyway. Logan has no immunity to anything right now period.) I can't figure out why I thought I'd skipped that vaccine, and now I'm wondering which shot I DID opt out of. But that's neither here not there for the moment. Two, and perhaps more salient, the kid in question in Abby's class apparently doesn't even HAVE the chicken pox. She has some sort of rash that her parents assumed was the chicken pox, but the doctor apparently said nope.
So yeah. I pretty much had a heart attack and went through hours of agony over... nothing. But it does inspire me to beg anyone with kids to please, please consider vaccinating. You may never know if your decision saves (or harms, on the flipside) another kid. As the mom of an oncology patient, I ask you to please at least think of MY kid.
As for Logan, he had a decent day. He had cleared the methotrexate as of this morning, so we were pleased to hear that. His ANC was also at zero, which bought him a ticket to the immunocompromised wing, so we moved to a single there at about 12:30. It feels like a palace after spending the past week in a shared space. His hemoglobin was lower than expected this morning (6), so he received a transfusion this afternoon; I could tell he felt much better about halfway into the bag. While I'm talking about donated blood, if you're able, please consider donating! People like Logan benefit every day from that kind of generosity.
Anyway, he ate pretty well (which is essential, since he's gotten very thin) today and was generally cheerful and full of I love yous. He cried a lot when Adam left early-afternoon, just as he cried when I left last night and tonight. He doesn't like it when Adam or I leave, although he's never left aone. When the oncology fellow came in to check on him this evening, she noted that he's doing SO much better this cycle than last, and she's right. He's eating, he's walking around, he wants to do things and be interactive. Huge strides from cycle one when he laid in bed, refused to eat and cried for medicine all the time. In fact, I don't think he complained about his tummy hurting one single time this afternoon. That's praiseworthy.
Tonight he's scheduled to receive his first injection of the drug that boosts WBC production in preparation for his stem cell harvest, which will happen as soon as his WBC hits about 1,000. (Projected date is not this coming Monday, but the one following, as long as things go well.) If he doesn't wind up with a fever tonight and his metabolic panels look okay, he MAY get to come home tomorrow.
I feel so jaded. I'm mostly settled into our crappy little back and forth, to and fro routine. But my faith that he will be healed feels... flimsy. Maybe it's because I'll think his eye looks better but then the next day it doesn't. I don't know. Or maybe I'm just too drained. Anyway, just pray. I can't really say for what because I'm tired and fuzzy headed and just out of it. But feel free to share what you pray for below; I'd love to know where you're all led.