About Us

Our family of 6 (dad Adam, mom Sherry, big sister Abby and little brothers Isaac and Brady -- who was born on December 14, 2010) joined the ranks of pediatric cancer fighters when our 4-year old son Logan was diagnosed with a dangerous and highly malignant form of brain cancer in mid-August 2010. Logan's cancer journey began abruptly on Sunday, August 15, when his right eye suddenly turned inward during dinner. Twenty-four hours later, we were checking into Children's Hospital Oakland and finding out that life sometimes takes you places you'd never, ever imagine yourself going.

Monday, November 8, 2010

The Logan Update: Tuesday, September 7, 2010

I think this'll be a fast one because I'm dozing over the keyboard and it's hard to get drool out from between the keys once it's there.

Today was okay. Logan appeared to do fine with the next two drugs in the cycle (numbers 2 and 3 out of 5... or maybe it's 3 and 4, overall), which is great and we're grateful for that. He didn't throw up at all during my watch (which began at about 11 AM and went through 6 PM, when Adam's mom showed up to bridge the gap), and did so only once overnight, if I recall Adam's words correctly. He spent much of the day groggy and disconnected, prompting me to ask about reducing whatever med it is that makes him loopy. It's complicated, though, since LOTS of the drugs he's on have the power to induce loopiness. Sigh. It's a process. He was definitely more awake today than yesterday, though, so I'm glad for that. And although he continues to complain about tummy (frequently) and head (occasionally) pain, it doesn't happen nearly as often as during previous days.

This afternoon he enjoyed a visit by the family life rep, who brought along a Cootie Game (yep, the same build-a-bug set-up that's been around for years). He instructed Suzanne and I on the proper creation of bugs by telling us where to attach what, and had a nice awake (but still not particularly Logan-esque) time before lapsing again into the usual drowsiness.

I also managed to get him to eat some food - though only a little bit - this evening. He hadn't eaten in days and had no interest in food, but I made him order something and he chose grilled cheese, fries with ketchup and chocolate cake. (Okay, so he really chose a chocolate chip cookie, but for some reason the whole hospital was out of them today. What Children's Hospital runs out of chocolate chip cookies?!) He had no intention of indulging until I revealed that I had a new Cars car in my bag for him if he would eat some food for me. And voila, he sat up and was good with having a few bites. And I had his nurse, Lisa, bring in a new dose of Miralax mixed in apple juice so I could offer him some after each bite of sticky sweet cake. The whole dose was downed lickety split, and Lisa was impressed with my stroke of mom-genuity. (And yes, he got his new car, too. A nice blue one named Ito San, I believe.) His total consumption was minimal overall, but I was pleased to get ANY food into him at all.

In terms of concerns, I have a few. First off, he still hasn't had a bowel movement. Please pray that it happens soon because some of the chemo drugs can exascerbate constipation and he really, really needs to clean out his system sooner than later. I'm also skittish about his heartrate. It's much faster than it was pre-surgery. I know that can be normal, given the meds, the trauma, you name it, but it makes me uneasy to see high numbers all the time. The doctors are all aware and are watching it, but seem generally okay with it. In fact, more than one has remarked that they worry much more about a lower heartrate than a higher one. But I'm the mommy so I worry anyway. (It's in the handbook.) Finally, I'd like to speed the process of figuring out what dosages of what medicines will work most effectively to prevent pain and nausea while still allowing him to be awake and interactive. It's hard to see him as non-responsive as he's been much of the time. And of course, please continue to pray for shrinkage of the tumors and HEALING!

As for me, I'm feeling a little sadness going into tomorrow. Tomorrow would have been his first day of preschool for the 2010-11 school year. I'm sad that while his little friends will be excitedly heading back to the classroom for another year of fun, stories, playtime and learning about Jesus, he'll be continuing chemo at the hospital. It still seems horribly unfair because, well, it is. He asked about school a few times last week while he was home and we sort of cast awkward glances at one another and put off responding. Hopefully he won't ask again any time soon. It would be amazing if he could attend starting in January, if the chemo (and GOD!) would knock out those tumors like gangbusters and allow him to enjoy being 4 years old a little, but I know there's nothing I can do to force it. So for now, I'm just trying to be patient and bide my time.

Thank you for your prayers and for being a part of our team. Blessings.

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