Never stop asking questions if you don't get the answer your gut is asking for. Ask. And ask again. And keep asking until your soul is 100% content.
Whether it be for fucking mouthwash, or shampoo because his head itches so bad. Or for a little education on how to give himself a shot that his mom is so paranoid of. And how to make sure counts stay within reason. And how to make anything and everything just a little better. For this life. In this fight. And avoiding social workers because they flat out suck.
Last week Kris was in the hospital. What started out as just the typical yucky feeling of fighting this fight, soon turned into 10 bags and rounds of various chemo's. Chemo's that we knew would drop kick him hard into a wall. And wall it was. By Friday after pleading with his doctor to just go home to try and recover there. He agreed. But not without procedures and instructions. Instructions that included injections into his belly every day to help keep his counts up. Instructions that soon become forgotten because you are so sick and you are trying to remember yet feel so weak and shitty, but you know it's what has to be done.
While in the hospital they administer something called "Hydration" rounds. Which is something to push through after the chemo has done its damage.
When you go home, it's a whole new monster to deal with. His mouth is full of sores. He's puking up nothing. He's up and down trying to go potty. He's laying in his own hair that is falling out and itching beyond words. He can't be around people because counts are at an 8.8-
Our weekend was hovering. Hovering to cover him with anything and everything filled with love.
I won't get into details. But I couldn't settle myself down. He is weak. He is sick. And he is a fighter.
Yesterday we headed back for MORE chemo. As we arrived, his doctor was down the hallway looking for him. Kali and I walked in one way. And Bill and Kris were already in the waiting room. (Apparently in the wrong area)- What I have learned also is the terminology for "Infusion"- "Induction"- "Spinal Induction"-All mean different things, and DIFFERENT locations. So after almost losing my shit to Dr. Chen, and asking him for some "magic mouth wash" -(in which I am still amazed that I didn't hear about this during our first boxing match and chemo) that YES...in FACT there is a mouth wash that a pharmacist has to make to help with the many many sores in his mouth.
Infusion started, Kali and I sat bedside. Soon to be told, we'd need to head to hospital for Spinal Chemo after this 2 hour bag finished up there.
So another spinal tap, another round of chemo, making it our 15th in 7 days. Here's my birdie waiting for his spinal, and 15th round. This one going back in through spine.
I can't even complain to any of you. This is what HE looks like. This is what CHEMO looks like round after round after round. To say he's been a trooper is seriously an understatement.
Yesterday was rough. I cried lots without him looking I won't get into details. But purchasing one med that was $652.00, and the other $200.00, and the other $80.00 at out of pocket even with insurance to keep him alive. Money doesn't matter. It's just a realization of what the hell is going on here. Getting bags of ice to haul that medicine home with him so he can inject himself. Also making sure I keep everything clean like the second the nurse wanted him to sign an authorization for the spinal procedure and began to hand him that plastic pen thing that I am QUITE SURE sick people prior have touched. And so I blocked it like a maniac. Wiping it down with my Clorox wipies that I carry. Standing in front like a guardsman. Watching him smile at mama bird because he knows it's my ammo. He knows I am me.
Because that is what I am. I am a warrior. I am fighting for him. With him.
Because that is what I am made of.
Because as I told you all once before, and I will say it a trillion times. Until my last dying breath.
I will give every ounce of ME to my birdies.
I am exhausted. Again. But nothing in comparision to my baby. Nothing.
Pray for him. Pray for my fighting strength. That I keep my mouth zipped at times when I want to rip peoples faces off. Pray that I keep my hands to myself when I'm in warrior mode.
Because I am a lover.
For my babies.
Forever.
I will try to update, but I can tell you, my world is scrambled.
Big love to you all. Let things go, because life is so so delicate.
This Mama Warrior.
pss- Friends and family of Kris? text him. He's sicky but needs love people. Send him love. It's what makes this fight worth fighting.
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