Quiet Week

It has been a quiet week at our house.  Tate slept a lot, a lot, a lot (!) Monday through Wednesday, and it seems like he has been wide awake since Thursday morning.  Weeks without chemotherapy are built into treatment protocol so his body can regenerate enough to endure the next onslaught.  Tate only had physical and occupational therapy appointments, and both therapists said he worked very hard during their sessions.  Tate has goals:  he wants to walk again, and he wants his hands back.

Scott and Tate spent a lot of time together this week.  More than one evening I went to Tate’s room to find him sitting in a chair (not his wheelchair) next to Scott so they could see each other’s laptop screens while playing games.  Tate’s room was strewn with candy wrappers and root beer bottles after these nights, and I suspect this reckless consumption of junk food is the only thing helping Tate keep his weight from slipping.

I walked into Tate’s room this morning and found him listening to music and drawing.  Drawing!  A few weeks ago, holding a pen to write his name was almost more than he could manage.

Tate said I could share the picture he was working on.  It’s a tortoise with an apple.  It might be my favorite picture ever.

Despite being mostly quiet, this week had some challenges.  Tate struggled with intense stomach pain the first few days.  He got scratched by the cat (jerk).  This morning he took a pretty big fall.  He landed on his knee and thinks he may have pulled some muscles in his leg.  We’re monitoring him closely.  There is obvious concern that he fell, but there is also hope knowing how hard he is trying to get back onto his feet.

Weeks like this are important for us as parents, too.  We get to see our child’s body and spirit gain strength instead of lose it, and since he’s hurting less, humor briefly finds its way back into our home.

I have been my own sort of mess this week, though I cannot say for sure why.  I have been living on green tea, Halloween candy, and ice cream and wearing mostly pajamas.  I didn’t work out in my garage or walk the dogs.  I don’t think I’m sad, I’m just tired.  Maybe this is what living without Diet Coke feels like.  It really was a good week for many reasons.  My sweet friend treated me to Starbucks and we talked and laughed.  When she complimented my outfit I told her I was wearing it for her and I don’t think she knew to what degree I meant it.  Yesterday I went to Chipotle with Scott and two of his friends that I love to pieces.  Tonight I am organizing Tate’s appointment bag and my backpack for next week; having the blanket, snacks, medications, water bottles, etc. ready in advance is a big help.

Tomorrow morning Tate has an appointment with the nurse practitioner Angela, and we’ll find out what the rest of the week looks like.  If his counts are good, he will be given an increased dose of Methotrexate (hurts the stomach) and a 25% dose of Vincristine (bad for neuropathy).  I’ll share more information as I have it.