Day 12

This post is short.

Just as I figured would happen. Happened. Depression and the torture of his body has taken its toll.
When I arrived today after working a little this morning, I could see it in his face.
Soon, the venting turned to tears. And tears turned into his reality of comments.
"Mom, I will never go through this again". Ever.
Today he vented about doctors. Medicines. Life stuck in a room for 3 weeks today.

There are no words I could lay onto his soul to help. Just cry with him. Rubbing his feet.
Listening and praising him for how far he's come.
Our favorite nurse coming in kneeling down next to him with those same words.
She helped him make a plan. Getting answers from doctors when he feels like they're blowing him off.
My request was to allow me to push him in the wheel chair just down the hall. A different view. A wider more promising outlook. At least it's what I hoped for. He's hooked up to 7 bags and line after line which is making him mad. He can't stand looking at himself. Skinny, bald and lost eye lashes.

He's in the trenches today. Deep down we know these awful memories will be memories.
Right now, and today....today wasn't good.
Tomorrow they will put him under and scope his lower GI track to find what the diarrhea is coming from. More ruling out. This too pissing him off. He believes a nurse assistant charted the amount wrong.
Tomorrow's a new day. More stems grabbing hold. Hopefully releasing a white cell party....

Until then, I need my warriors of love behind him. This transplant is unbelievable and hard.



And I can't even complain of my tired mind and body. If you could sit, see and hear him vent.

It puts our lives into perspective. Like fast.

Counts-
WBC .6 (same as yesterday)
HGB 10.6
Platelet  57
Spirit and Soul. .1

I love you Kris. You have fought hard.

This mama warrior Lisa