Lifting The Fog Of Chemo

Everyone tells you the horror stories of chemo, but until you live through it, until you watch your child live through it .  .  . you really have no clue.  I had no clue.  I had no idea how HARD it really is. Even though we escaped from the hospital Saturday, we've been feeling the effects of chemo everyday since.  It's not fun and it's not pretty watching your active, happy-go-lucky 11 year old slowly wither away, because he won't eat.  Seriously, how can someone actually survive on such little food intake?  Suddenly, food is the center of your life, and you cheer over an empty dish of applesauce or a few spoons of Fruit Loops consumed.  Even if it comes right back up a half hour later.

The stress of seeing him miserable for so long is draining both emotionally and physically.  As a parent, you feel so helpless to give him comfort or even answers as to when it he'll 'stop feeling so horrible.'  At one point this week I remember telling Mac that I would give anything if I could be sick for him.  He stopped moaning and looked at me with big eyes, 'No, don't say that Mom.  I would feel terrible for you.  I don't want you to feel like this.'  Yes, we have meds for the nausea, but they don't always do the trick and we've become quite accustomed to adjusting quickly to the faint cry of  "Mom . . . I'm gonna be sick."   I tease him that his new best friend is his pink puke bucket.  She, 'Pinky,' goes everywhere with him . . .

Even when he doesn't need her close by, we often find him comforted by her close proximity . . . on his head.

This kid is such a goof.

It's these moments that that keep us whole.  These brief glimpses of our funny MacKale let us know that he's still HIM and we are still US.

He continues to inspire me by his ability to grin and move on.  Although he was so nervous about going, he made up his mind to go to school Tuesday for the last two hours of the day.  He couldn't quite make it to get there in time for his morning classes . . . 'morning sickness' you know.  I keep asking him . . . are you sure you're not pregnant Mac.  Pregnant ladies vomit a lot in the morning too. "MOM!!! No!"

We got past the morning and packed up and headed for school in the afternoon when his stomach had settled. Did he need me to wheel him down to class?  Heck no!  Away his went . . . independent little cuss.  I can't imagine where he gets that from?

He had a great couple of hours . . . until the last 10 minutes of the last class when he got a bloody nose.  Ugghhh. Really!?  I anticipated vomiting.  We both did.  In fact, one of our sweet friends even delivered a collapsible puke bag for him to take in his pocket to school . . . just in case.  (Thanks Mrs. Reagan!)  I still prayed HARD that he would not have to vomit.  I just wanted him to have a good experience so desperately, and he did have a good day, but still . . . couldn't he catch a break?  I told him the bloody nose was completely my fault.  It had to be. I only prayed for no vomiting.  I completely missed the bloody nose thing.  I'll do better next time.

It's these unexpected, unknown side effects and changes that knock us back down, just when we think we might be moving forward.  A forty-five minute nose bleed had me frantic not knowing if this was a hemophilia thing or an oncology thing.  We can't just have cancer, we have to make it REALLY interesting by throwing a bleeding disorder into the mix, ya know.  But we pick ourselves up and start again . . .

But finally yesterday,  a week after we started his first dose of chemo, I think we may have turned a corner for this round.   MacKale moved beyond Fruit Loops and requested Chicken Nuggets from McDonalds.  I know, disgusting right?   Yes,  he requested only McDonald's nuggets.  He also reminded me that they are made of disgusting pink goo, but he still wanted them.  I don't care.  He could have asked for a Dilly Bar and a packet of ketchup to eat, and I would have gotten it for him. He ate two nuggets, apple sauce AND, be still my heart, spaghetti-os and finger jello.   Only little bits of each, but enough to make me one happy camper. Luckily, he keeps drinking for me.  Of course, I have my suspicions that he drinks so much only to keep me from nagging . .  . just a hunch. Regardless, I'll take it.

It was a good day though.  He ventured outside in his wheel chair to hang out with his Papa and Dad, sat with me and did homework, and spent sometime with his brothers doing what brothers do . . . playing Legos (Thank you Angel Deedee ), singing and cracking jokes.  It's not chasing a soccer ball around the house, but after a week of being disconnecting to the little boys because he felt so miserable, it was music to this momma's ears, and a rainbow to the end of our dreary, foggy chemo week.

We count these days and every day, good or bad, as a blessing because we are together.   We continue to put our faith in God's hands and know that He will continue to lead us as we move through these days.  God has blessed us with all of you who continue to pray and keep MacKale in your thoughts and keep God working overtime.   We are so very grateful.  (Marsha)