Chemo was a breeze yesterday. We were out of the hospital in exactly three hours. At least 75% of the time we're in the oncology clinic is spent waiting for test results, for the doctors, and for the chemo to arrive from the pharmacy. The waiting is the hardest part.
Yesterday wasn't so bad. Pablo napped for part of the time. And he was generally in a good mood. My dad arrived from Milwaukee in the late morning, and joined us at the clinic. He couldn't believe how much time Dr. Mascarenhas spent with us, talking and answering every question on Jo Ann's list. We appreciate Dr. M in a deep and meaningful way since the moment we met him. Still, it was nice to hear my dad's kind words about the doc.
In the quest to figure out why Pablo is getting riveting headaches, Dr. M recommended that he watch TV only for short periods. We are trying to narrow down the list of triggers, and pinpoint what might be the cause of the head pain. Dr. Stein and Dr. M both talk about environmental triggers more than anything–or that it could be caused by the general stress of his medical-focused life at the moment. We never know how the body is going to respond to activity in its vacinity. Imagine the violent war the chemo is waging inside his body. And, unlike an adult, Pablo does not have the verbal faculty to express his pain, confusion, discomfort, even fear. And how the chemo affects his sense of taste, and the way light and sound make him feel.
The stuff has to come out somehow, somewhere. Maybe that place is his head, just above his right eye.
Pablo elected to spend his short burst of TV watching to on the first 20 minutes of 'Star Wars.' He and Polly stopped at the cantina scene, right after Han Solo blows away the green alien who's shaking him down to repay a debt to Jabba the Hut. Maybe today he will watch another 20 minutes, and spend the rest of the day coloring, and kicking everyone's butts at Uno and Sorry!