When titling this post I imagined Michael Buffer announcing “In the blue corner we have Might Man Will, coming in at 17 pounds, wearing his Captain America t-shirt, a tough little guy, beginning Round 4 of treatment, Let’s get ready to rumble!” Ha! Maybe I am losing my mind.
I thought about making a list of what not to say when your child is going through cancer treatment. You see by nature I am very introverted, once I get to know you of course that goes away. Although I am an introvert, I have noticed when I get nervous I get super awkward and think I am a comedian.
Example #1: While being given gut-wrenching news that Will would have his gallbladder and half his liver removed. I thought it was appropriate and funny to tell the surgeon “Well great there goes his dreams of being an alcoholic!” In my head it seemed hilarious, he didn’t laugh and kind of looked at me like I was crazy. I like to think he wanted to laugh but thought it was inappropriate.
Example #2: Just Monday the nurses were discussing what Will was going through and the surgery. Again my awkwardness came out and I laughed and told them “Yeah I guess he will have to go to community college or trade school because he has no chance of getting into a fraternity or the military with half a liver.” I thought it was funny, one nurse laughed, and the other looked at me in horror that I was talking about my 7-month-old baby drinking.
I won’t go any further with my nervous awkward humor but I definitely have a few stories to tell later. I hope one day when Will is older he will read these posts and be able to imagine what this journey was like.
Moving on, as promised here is the round 4 chemo story.
First, let me begin by telling you we moved into our new house that Billy built, which in itself is amazing. I can’t wait for Will to be old enough to understand his dad truly built him a home. So Sunday we moved. I packed the hospital bag early thank goodness because I surely would have lost everything otherwise. We left Monday morning a little early because it is a little further of a drive.
All was good. Another shooting star fell from the sky while we were driving down the highway. I made a wish and life was great. Then out of nowhere boxes started flying down the highway like a scene from American Gladiators when they would shoot tennis ball from the guns, except with boxes of course. I was feeling pretty proud of my driving skills as I dodged all the boxes. At this point, I was pretty sure I could be a stunt driver in the next Fast and the Furious movie all with my baby in the back seat. The boxes seemed to stop flying and I resumed my normal driving. Then out from under the Jeep in front of us came a large circular metal piece, I couldn’t dodge it. I had nowhere to go so we hit it. Will woke up crying and my car started giving me all the warning.
Right Front Tire 0 psi.
If you know me, you know I freak about this kind of thing. I immediately called Billy and read to him what was on my screen. Luckily, I have run-flats, which other than from early 2000’s rap songs I didn’t really know what they were. I was able to drive 50mph and make it to the hospital. Billy and his brother came and saved the day and replaced my tire. It was an eventful drive for sure. The best part was Will made it on time and we were safe.
Once we checked in to be admitted all went as planned. We arrived at 7:45 am and were in our room by 8:45 am after seeing Will’s oncologist. I thought we would begin chemo early but the day kept getting longer. By 5 pm I asked the nurse what the hold up was. I was impatient. Will was ready to go at 11 am, all his vitals and labs were good. The nurse told me it was her fault, she had another patient who was in need due to a diabetic issue that was the side effect of their treatment. I felt so guilty being impatient. We have been so blessed with Will. So far he is getting to go home early from treatments, we spend minimal time inpatient, and he has had minimal side effects in comparison. Needless to say, I learned to be patient real quick.
This stay went by fast, we were out of the hospital late Tuesday evening and back home to unpack the countless boxes. Will has been doing good. He is refusing to eat today but that is most likely from the delayed onset nausea that comes with the chemo. Hey, if one day of nausea is the worst, we will take it.