Day 72
It took all day for the results of John's bone marrow biopsy to return, which worried me more and more, but the report is that his marrow has a few normal cells and no sign that the leukemia has returned. All night and through the day, a boy John's age named Wes down the hall had large numbers of visitors going to see him and leaving crying. He has ALL. We've seen him and his family on the floor and in the clinic for some time. They've apparently given up treatment and he will be finishing his time before long. Sort of makes waiting for John's test harder.
I got John up to walk a couple of times today and he said he noticed what was going on with Wes. He thought that maybe the people were saying goodbye. I started to suggest that maybe he was leaving for a transplant and then just gave up and let the topic go.
John has made what has to be an enormous effort, given his state, to fight back today. He's walked twice and we wheeled our way up to the 7th floor where they handle transplant patients. He tried to eat again and again, but kept only a little down. They will start IV feeding tonight, which may help give him more strength. You can see that his eyes are less distant and show some fight in them.
He asked if Debbie would make some of his favorite chicken dish for him and said he wanted to try sleeping alone tonight. He said he thought he could handle that and my snooring seemed to be a distraction too.
Patience for now and a sense of relief, which would seem odd to anyone else with a child in the hospital. The scientists have been trying to figure out what the "dark matter" is that seems to make up most of the universe. I know now that it's a combination of irony and hope.
I got John up to walk a couple of times today and he said he noticed what was going on with Wes. He thought that maybe the people were saying goodbye. I started to suggest that maybe he was leaving for a transplant and then just gave up and let the topic go.
John has made what has to be an enormous effort, given his state, to fight back today. He's walked twice and we wheeled our way up to the 7th floor where they handle transplant patients. He tried to eat again and again, but kept only a little down. They will start IV feeding tonight, which may help give him more strength. You can see that his eyes are less distant and show some fight in them.
He asked if Debbie would make some of his favorite chicken dish for him and said he wanted to try sleeping alone tonight. He said he thought he could handle that and my snooring seemed to be a distraction too.
Patience for now and a sense of relief, which would seem odd to anyone else with a child in the hospital. The scientists have been trying to figure out what the "dark matter" is that seems to make up most of the universe. I know now that it's a combination of irony and hope.
