Pablo and Uncle Dean at home this morning. Uncle Dean jumped on a plane as soon as he got the call. His gentle, playful spirit has been a HUGE help over the past few days.
Pablo slept well. Translation: he slept a little bit on Mommy, a little bit on Papa, then a little bit on both at the same time (I call this the '9 and 3' position). Of course, we couldn't have been happier to have his lanky limbs and body making a nocturnal climbing expedition out of us.
Now, I don't want to bum anyone out. But we're on a journey here. And it's going to get rocky from time to time. We've had pretty much nothing but improvement and great news since getting the cancer news early Sunday morning. But we know that our little boy has a disease. And that it's going to bring great days and terrible, horrible days. Pablo's path has already brought a serenity to our family.
OK, if we all agree on this, then I can tell you some less-than-fun news: Pablo has thrown up a few times since we got home yesterday. A couple times last night, and again this morning. It's hard for Pablo. Never met a kid who likes puking. We are a FAR second in any of this, but it's hard for us, too. Devastating. I can't speak for Jo Ann and Grady, but what goes through my head is, 'Is this a sign of something bad, or just regular puke? ...God, I hope it's just regular puke.'
Chasing down an answer to that question last night, we got our first dose of calling the hospital, paging the on-duty Oncologist, demanding to talk to the charge nurse while the doc was on her way to the phone. They were both great, and gave us amazing direction. The docs think it's Pablo not liking the taste of his medicine (last night) and drinking too much water too fast (this am). We're hoping this theory is correct, and that once he gets used to all this, he'll be OK.
The advice the Oncologist gave Jo Ann was to put the medicine in chocolate syrup. IT WORKED!
OK, that ended up being pretty sweet, huh?