Back in the Hot Unit
9-22-2006
We haven't had Internet access for a few days since coming back to the
hospital, which accounts for the lapse in blog
updates. (Sorry)
Jaymun is back for his second round of chemo. He's
doing well so far, hanging in there like the little trooper we've discovered
him to be. When we came back to the hospital on Tuesday, he first had to have a
spinal tap in the upstairs clinic. Dave and I had noticed that he
had new "bruises" appearing on his cheek and under his eye the
past couple of days. The doctor told us she was concerned that his cancer was
spreading too rapidly for the chemo to keep up and that they were going to need
to test his bone marrow again to see if the leukemia had spread.
The world feels like it can indeed stop spinning sometimes.
I looked down at our baby lying on the treatment room table. He was sedated
from the spinal tap and was sleeping pretty soundly. He looked so small on that
big bed, just this little helpless human being-and it occurred to me that
for the rest of his life, we are going to have moments like this. The kind of
moments where we think things are going along alright and then wham!
Dave and I don't even have to look at each other, because we know that the fear
that grips our hearts is the same.As weeks flow into
weeks, we are painfully realizing that we are dealing with a very insidious
disease. It's just blood, for crying out loud. All of us have it, it
flows through all of our bodies, it's a fluid that we all need to
survive-but in little Jaymun's case, this blood has
become the enemy. I've always taken it for granted, the way our bodies work. Never needed to think twice about waking up and being grateful for
my body manufacturing the stuff. And now I'm slowly becoming an expert
on it. Now I hear an annoucement from a doctor about
my son's blood counts and I'm seized by this gripping
worry about what's going on inside his little body that we can't see and more
frustrating, can't control.
It was decided to do another bone marrow aspiration procedure while he
was still sedated. All things considered, it was a smart decision -Jaymun would have had to go without eating again for
another day and I think we all know where he stands on that business. :) They
moved us back downstairs into our room on the HOT unit after his procedures.
There aren't any words to describe the ball of fear gnawing inside of us
while we waited to hear the test results. If the bone marrow was infected, his
chemo treatments would have to be reevaulated and
changed. It would mean we were losing ground on all his prior progress.
The doctors came in a couple of hours later and immediately told us the news
that so far, his bone marrow is clear. Clear. Never was a
word so appreciated. It means that even though we still have to proceed with
chemo, at least things are still on track. I still have to stay here for weeks
and weeks. Jaymun still has to go through intense
treatment. Our family still has to be separated. We still have months of worry
and stress and frustration and heartache. But to hear that his bone marrow is
not infected yet means that for now, we can breathe a bit easier.
Jaymun has a rough road still ahead of him, but for now he
can at least keep forging ahead little by little on the original path the
doctors prescribed for him.
I've learned a lot living in this place. Jaymun
has taught me so much already that I'm amazed at what ten weeks can do to
a person's perspective. Ten weeks ago, I might have bypassed counting my
blessings for good health. Not anymore. Everyday I wake up and think about what
his blood is doing under the surface. I pray that his day is full of strength,
and health, and happiness. I pick out all the little things that I can be
thankful for so I don't focus too much on the crummy stuff that is trying to
beat us down. I keep a journal on Jaymun's progress
to remind myself that he is conquering some incredible hurdles. I try to make
his day as full of smiles as I can to distract us both from getting depressed
in this tiny room. I read the cards that people send me to feel connected to
the outside world.
For all of you who are reading this (and I have no idea who you may
be--we definitely need to add a Comments section to this website-hint, hint
Dave), I thank you as always for being concerned enough to stay informed
about our Jaymun. Maybe he's teaching some of you
about life as well-it's possible to learn from a baby, I've discovered. Take
some time today to think about that miraculous liquid we call
"blood"-it's amazing how much our bodies depend on it. I'm slowly
realizing that not only am I thankful for how well mine works, I'm praying that
someday our baby's will be cancer-free as well. Free- and clear.
-Jennifer
