...but no, I haven't. Three cups of coffee over dinner, after a 90 minute nap, mean that Musical Daddy isn't going to fall asleep any time soon. It didn't help that the movie "Taken" really... well, took my attention tonight. Nice action flick - a retired spy daddy goes to rescue his daughter, who was kidnapped by Bad Guys.
I'm also JUST a little concerned about the scan tomorrow. I'm concerned because I'm 360 miles away, I'm tied into a bunch of commitments over the next several weeks that means that I can't run out to P-burgh to visit my family, and I've already heard "we need to talk to you about the results of the scan" from the doctors once in my life. Well, five times, counting my mom (twice), dad, mother-in-law, and son. There is never going to be a visit to the doctor, a tummy ache, a sore throat, ANYTHING, that The Boy gets that isn't going to have my wife and I exchanging meaningful glances. I mean, I'm sure that we'll start to worry less as the years go past, but some part of us is always going to worry.
I'm concerned because The Boy is home tonight, hooked up to an IV unit. He is still learning Grandma's house, and I'm nervous thinking about him with an IV bag, waking up in the middle of the night and trying to go wandering while forgetting that he's attached. In the hospital, he's very cognizant of his hookups; last time, at our old house, he was very aware of his IV. Strange places do strange things to children. If I was there, I'd probably be sleeping with him right now, which would alleviate much of that worry.
I'm concerned because we still don't know the full extent of the side effects from the chemo. What parts of his body are going to be affected that, hitherto, we haven't discovered? When is he going to show complications due to the radiation treatment? Is he going to develop leukemia, like the potential side effects of the cytoxin indicate? If so, when? What about other issues, to the other parts of the blood flow system?
I'm concerned because he has to take IV contrast. He's 2. He's truly amazing when it comes to taking medicines, for sure; but oral contrast is not fun at all. Will he keep it down? Will he puke it up? How many times?
I'm concerned because I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Is this going to be the scan that tells me that I'm going to lose my son? Or, is this the scan that says that we have a reprieve? Cancer, after all, is never really cured... just "in remission." Or, "NED" - No Evidence of Disease.
Doesn't mean the disease isn't there. Just that they can't find it.
Does that make you feel better about it?