Day 14
It dawned on Debbie and me today that only two weeks has gone by since our world has changed. I was hosting a meeting at work today and, for a brief moment, actually did not have John completely on my mind. I’m sure to one degree or another, you understand how different it seems.
Dad helped out with John for much of today and was with him for what was a very difficult morning. John said to him at one point that he wasn’t sure all this was worth it. John described the pain later as if it had no center, but that every part of him was sick. By afternoon, his “chemo hangover”, as I described it, abated and he seemed a good bit better. The nurses say that these are the hardest days, and he should feel better soon. John’s awful rash is still there, but so is his hair, or his Mohawk anyway.
The nutritionist visited John today and worked with him on what to eat and how to count his intake. John has lost at least 6 pounds since he entered the hospital, not bad, but in the wrong direction. Two weeks seems like such a long time for the team to have waited to help him with this.
I set up a call for Tuesday with a doctor in the Seattle center. The intake nurse asked all the right questions, which was encouraging.
We’ve had many people ask what they can do to help. Beyond thoughts and prayers, there isn’t all that much for now. John mentioned how strange it was that people he hardly knew seemed so concerned and tried to do so much for him. The best I could do was laugh and say that he had just never been sick before. It’s funny, but it is true that he has never had much wrong with him before. Even more, he is just a good, shy, well-meaning “kid”. I suppose it is beyond us to understand life.
I’m sure I’ve left things out, but thanks to Dad for being there for John on a tough day. So long for tonight.
Dad helped out with John for much of today and was with him for what was a very difficult morning. John said to him at one point that he wasn’t sure all this was worth it. John described the pain later as if it had no center, but that every part of him was sick. By afternoon, his “chemo hangover”, as I described it, abated and he seemed a good bit better. The nurses say that these are the hardest days, and he should feel better soon. John’s awful rash is still there, but so is his hair, or his Mohawk anyway.
The nutritionist visited John today and worked with him on what to eat and how to count his intake. John has lost at least 6 pounds since he entered the hospital, not bad, but in the wrong direction. Two weeks seems like such a long time for the team to have waited to help him with this.
I set up a call for Tuesday with a doctor in the Seattle center. The intake nurse asked all the right questions, which was encouraging.
We’ve had many people ask what they can do to help. Beyond thoughts and prayers, there isn’t all that much for now. John mentioned how strange it was that people he hardly knew seemed so concerned and tried to do so much for him. The best I could do was laugh and say that he had just never been sick before. It’s funny, but it is true that he has never had much wrong with him before. Even more, he is just a good, shy, well-meaning “kid”. I suppose it is beyond us to understand life.
I’m sure I’ve left things out, but thanks to Dad for being there for John on a tough day. So long for tonight.
