6:45 AM - Get up, wake Abby up, make breakfast, pack Abby's lunch, change Isaac and Brady's diapers, sometimes get them dressed.
7:55 AM - Take Abby to school, then run any errands.
11 AM - Lunch.
2:50 PM - Pick Abby up from school, goad her to do homework, amuse boys, feed Brady, etc..
4:30 PM - Drive to CHO to sit with Logan.
8 PM - Adam and I swap places.
8:45 PM - Put kids to bed.
9:30 PM - Freelance time.
11 PM - Bed.
I suppose that doesn't look terribly busy, but I think it's the lack of mental energy that zaps me. Brady has been a horrible crankpot lately. I was careless with my eating a few days ago and had some pie I should never have eaten, and now we're both paying the price for that indiscretion. It makes me angry that I have to deal with a dairy intolerance amid all of the other drama, but it is what it is. Anyway, that's all rambling.
Logan is doing okay with the transplant cycle so far. He had three days of Carboplatin, the third and final of which was yesterday. His creatnine clearance came back perfect after the first dose, but was slightly decreased the second day, so they lowered yesterday's dose to try to reduce the chances of side effects. Today, he's moving on to the other two drugs -- Etopiside and... well, I can't remember what the other drug is. I just tried to call Adam at the hospital to ask. Although he answered, I could hear Logan screaming in the background and he put his cell down before responding. After a single minute of listening to the crying and ranting, I had to hang up. I couldn't take it anymore.
I guess that's kind of how I feel right now at my core: Like I'm tired of it all. I'm tired of the crying, the screaming, the ranting and the raving. I'm tired of the drugs. I'm tired of the hospital routine. I'm tired of pushing negative thoughts out of my head. I'm tired of forcing myself to be hopeful. I'm tired of doctors and nurses and chemo and medical acronyms. I'm tired of watching everyone else get to move on with their lives when mine is so lousy. I'm tired of spilling my gut in this journal in dramatic fashion just hoping that others will keep reading and won't leave. I'm tired of being afraid to say how I really feel about x,y and z because I don't want to offend anyone and stop them from praying for Logan. I'm tired of feeling utterly alone.
Just please pray for Logan. I just want him to be well again. I want him to be healthy. It's really very simple, very primal. It's not a thing of eloquence and I can't make it so right now.
Oh, and the third drug? Thiotepa.