Last night, I got a text message saying that The Boy's temperature shot up to 99.8 axillary, which - you'll remember - means 100.8. That's not good. I was at my barbershop rehearsal, and it was disheartening to have a formerly pleasant evening have this giant rock fall on our toe. Anyway, I got back to the hospital quickly to help out.
The Wife and Younger Bro were there with N, a volunteer from Chai Lifeline. She was a wonderfully pleasant and fun young lady, and Younger Bro >loved< her. I mean, he'd be crying and miserable, she'd pick him up, and he'd calm down instantly. What a huge help!
Again, Chai Lifeline comes through huge. They've just been amazing, all the way during our whole process. Food, volunteers, help, prayers... they just GET it. I am looking forward to the day where we can start to repay their help.
They started chemo at 4:30 or 5AM, because they were waiting for the specific gravity of his urine to get below a certain point. Eventually, they just started it. No big deal. His counts are back down into the basement; red cells are back down to 7.1, which is mystifying. Turns out that the vasotec, the pro-kidney drug, depresses bone marrow's ability to create red cells. Sigh. Looks like we're dealing with regular transfusions for the length of his treatment. How frustrating - those are full days at the Valerie Center because of it.
The Boy woke around 7 and ate a cereal bar while watching - you guessed it - Elmo! He was nice, cute, a snuggly. He got down to play, and all of a sudden... well... he stood up and left a huge puddle / pile of poop, which he then slipped on as he tried to walk away. The diaper half-hanging off of him didn't help his balance at all.
Long, traumatic story short, I cleaned him up, got him into new clothes, cleaned the poop off of the ground, and bleached out his toys. Worst part about the whole thing was that his access point in his IV line was lying in the poo puddle, which means that giving him medicines and things can't go through the normal tube, and we can't change his tubing until he's done with chemo around 1 PM.
The frustrating thing was that housekeeping was immediately called, and they didn't come until I called them an hour later. "This is the first call we got about that room!" "No, Sadie called an hour ago." "Oh, yeah. She did. I'll get someone on it." Why is it that so many people need to be threatened in order to do their job? Doesn't make sense to me.
In the meantime, The Boy still isn't eating normally. He did have a cereal bar, and - thank G-d - he loves the Enlive nutritional supplement that tastes like apple Jolly Ranchers. He's still grazing on cereal for a good chunk of the day, which I like.
What we really need is for him to start eating yogurt and rice, so that his digestive tract starts to adjust to chemo butt.