The Boy's ANC is too low for surgery. He's getting some nupagen as we speak, and The Wife will be coming home with several shots for us to give him.
Here's the complex part: finding a date that is compatible with the surgeon, anaethesiologist and the other people that are involved. We don't know when the surgery will be.
It could be the 7th (Friday). It could be the 13th (Thursday). It could be December. It could be never. I really, honest to goodness, cannot imagine anything more painful than this process has been. Here we go: pack the house, buy the food for snacks, do the laundry, do the cleaning, empty the kitchen, create our absences at school.... and then have the rug pulled out from under us.
I can't help but to think: if they had done the f***ing biopsy when they told us they were going to, would things be different? We might not have done chemo last week, and his numbers might not have crashed.