We were outta CHLA by 10:15 a.m. yesterday. And that included going up to the fifth floor to visit our friend Luka, who was there for an appendectomy. Pablo's white blood cell and platelet numbers were just high enough to avoid transfusion. The reason I say avoid is cos it's ideal for his body to regenerate on its own. Too many transfusions could—at a critical moment—make Pablo's body immune to either white blood cell or platelet transfusion. So, as tough as it was, we agreed with our nurse that it was best to take P home, bruises all over his head and body from a weekend of walking, falling, playing with low cell counts. The one thing P was not this weekend was weary and tired. He was high E all weekend, cruising around the house with his big bro.
By the way, counterintuitive is a word I use a lot lately—and not just cos it's a 24 point Scrabble word. We get far more points sitting in our fear and sweating through the intellectual burn in moments like that. On a lighter note, have I mentioned that our neighbors launched an energy drink this summer? It's called Transphusion—every time I see their sleek black van covered with Shepard Fairey-designed logos, I wish P could simply knock back a tall boy of that stuff when his cells go low.
The balance of Monday was bidness as usual in Pabloland. His color came up, and his energy and play level were normal. Grady had the day off school—a special treat for both of them. They watched some bloob toob last night, and played in la sala giochi until (gasp!) 10:40 p.m. Jo Ann and I didn't realize it was so late. The beautiful sound of their happy voices and play patter coming through our bedroom ceiling (the play room is directly above) was so alluring, it could have gone on all night as far as I was concerned.
Things got off to a great start this morning. Pablo went on the drive to drop G at school—a rarity these days, cos he's usually sleeping late. I have a business brekkie at 8 today, so we're glad he woke up happy.
A look at the coming days:
Tomorrow, we have a GFR test. You might remember this one from last month—it's the one where they inject nuclear goo into P's body and scan his brightly illuminated kidney. This test is a walk in the park for Pablo. The machine is not intimidating, and the room where it happens is big and open and unintimidating, and big enough for Jo Ann and I to hang out with him while the scan is going down. The scary part for us (here comes the intellect again) is the nuclear goo.
Thursday noon we have a meeting with Dr Mascarenhas. He will do a full examination of Pablo, and this time he'll see that P's feet and legs are not walking like they used to. He told us in the early days that one of the chemo drugs P is on could have this side effect. It's here, and we're eager to see what Dr M will offer up to remedy it. P fell down a couple stairs Saturday and bonked his head. Nothing too bad (you would have heard about it), but we'll be glad to get Dr M's guidance on this.
Monday we check into CHLA for another five-day in-patient chemo run. I am inhaling deeply as I type this. The novelty and newness of hanging round the hospital has worn off. Thankfully, it's gotten easier for P to be there. That's the important part. And the part that brings about massive massive amounts of gratitude in our family.
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