Thursday

It's been a convalescing kind of week. At least it has for Adam. I've been feeling better for the most part, following my many recent ailments; Adam battled what I'm sure was a flu for three days and is now on the mend. But just this evening my stomach started to feel off. I've never hoped for food poisoning before --my sole experience happened while I was studying abroad at Oxford and I was miserable for days-- but if there's something amiss, I hope that's it.

Anyway, today we went to CHO for our consolidation cycle consultation with Dr. G. He's not the program coordinator; in fact, we typically saw him wearing his oncology hat during Logan's inpatient stays. He did a relatively quick overview of what's to come. No matter how many times we hear about Logan's treatment protocol, it's always shocking to be faced with the names of the drugs he'll receive and to hear about the side effects. It never gets easier. Even though I'm numb to much of this process now, information about drugs and side effects still wash over me like icy cool water, effectively reminding me that yes, this is still happening. And yes, it's still a very serious situation. I looked often from Dr. G. to Logan, who sat across the table from me playing with Legos, and quiet, private, frustrated thoughts flitted through my mind. It's not fair. No matter what, it will never, ever be fair.

Since I missed posting earlier this week, I should bring everything else up to speed. There have been several pre-transplant appointments. I took Logan to the dentist on Tuesday. Miraculously (and it is miraculous, given how much chemo he's had an how lax we've been about brushing his teeth at times), he didn't have any cavities and his gums are in good shape. Then yesterday, I took him down to Stanford for a creatnine clearance test, which measures how well his kidneys are functioning. We haven't gotten the results of that test yet; please pray that they will come back within normal range. Logan was excellent both days. He was especially tickled over seeing the police cars outside the hospital complex --just as we left, the President's motorcade happened to ride by. I'm from the DC-area so I've seen many a Presidential motorcade, but it was amusing even to me to see one in Palo Alto, thousands of miles away from my hometown.

I want to write a lot here, but I'm floundering through this entry, trying to be eloquent and trying to remember the pertinent details, and feeling like I'm not doing a particularly good job. So perhaps I'm best served by moving on to prayer requests.

Please pray for Logan's health as we move toward Monday and the beginning of the consolidation cycle. Pray that the radiation will continue to eat away and completely destroy any cancer cells that may remain, and on the other side of the coin, that the effects on his healthy tissue would be minimal. Pray for wisdom as this coming chemo cycle begins; pray that the doctors and nurses will watch him with extra specially watchful eyes, and that he'll be able to avoid some of the serious side effects that could result. One of the big complications is renal failure, so please pray against that. Pray for our family as we once again enter into a prolonged time of separation. Pray for peace and faith for all of us as we go through this final step in the protocol, and pray for amazing results when it's over. Logan has been through so much. He deserves to be well. Please intercede for that.

Thank you for joining us as we continue along this path. Blessings.