Day 16

So many emotions as I woke this morning.  Friday January 29th two thousand sixteen.  First sign of early morning.  I start my scan of thoughts.  My boy.  This journey. Wondering how he slept which has been horrible.  Wondering his counts.  Wondering how his feelings are.  How Jen slept.  That girl has slept in a recliner bed from the first day.  Driving over 100 miles a day for him.  My next thoughts are the final preps to get him home.  I'm scared if I'm being honest.  Don't know why, I just am. It's like bringing a newborn home with the responsibilities, and wonders.  And worries. And if you know me.....it's always worry.  I wonder if God handed me this assignment in this chapter so that I can become stronger?  Bigger?  Better?

I will never understand this completely.  But I signed up for it the day I became his mommy.  Actually the day I heard his heartbeat.  The love is unreal.  

First text- Morning honey------  "Morning mom"

How ya doing?  Crazy night with sweats and chills-  One thing we've learned in the days after stems begin their growth is the sweats.  It's like the body is growing on the inside.  His new white cells, and the good guys are taking over.  Platelets rising.  All of it.  It's truly a miracle.  

Easy for us to digest as a miracle, and yet he's up all night long in a sweaty wet bed.  Wanting to change clothes, but it's 2am, and he's just trying to sleep.  He said Ambien isn't really even helping at this point. 

Wild. 

Soon, my request-  Send me the board.

Eeeeek!  Look at them grow!!!

Yesterday when I arrived, my high school best guy friend, soon to be my son's Nino was there. 

I could hear him as I was washing my hands, and gownin' up.  It was surreal.  This guy that I haven't seen in almost ten years.  I know, it's wild.  You know how life gets in the way. And he lives far, and we lose touch.  Yet you always think of eachother on birthdays.  Or sentimental times when friends from high school reach out, and or you see a picture of your younger high school days, and there we all were. 

His mom would take us over to Rosarito Mexico and let us drink at 15.  Holla! LOL

And she'd let us hold ditching parties at her house.  DOUBLE HOLLA!  JK

But she knew we were good kids.  And that same Nino that would show up with fireworks at our house every year for Kris' birthday because he knew that at the age of 10, 13, and 15 he probably was a pyromaniac.  Sending me in a frenzy, but he'd do it any way. 

I hear his laugh inside.  

I walk in and we laugh and hug as we smile through our masks.  Inside, I'm thinking wow....the typical story.  Crisis bringing people together.  He has an amazing wife Jennifer that put together the cutest bag of goodies for Kris.  We stood there catching up and reminiscing. 

Mask-less Rebelhood

 

Jen would soon arrive.  And we'd get this dude up for a walk.  A path he's starting to become familiar with.  Doctors say, get up and walk.  Get strong.  

 As we were making laps we see this young guy kind of lost, and searching for someone.  So Kris said, "If you're looking for whoever walking, just look at the feet on the side of the rails, they're black stickers, follow that path, and you'll find em"-  

And so we are behind him as he's searching for them.  Soon we round the corner, and it's his Mom. And Dad.

Mom freshly admitted, hooked to her iv cart.  Hair still present.  But definitely fighting this fight. A million thoughts flood me as we pass them.  He sees her, they catch eyes.  Walking slow.  The 3 of them. 

Tears welled in my eyes. 

You guys.  His Mom.  She looked my age.  Dad standing there supporting her.  Young guy there supporting her. 

That journey.  What's ahead, and what's behind.  

Cancer is so hard. 

So so hard.  

 On the back side of the hospital you can see the 605 freeway.  Also an open field.  The view down below is the original City Of Hope Hospital.  Where it began as a tuberulosis hospital 100 years ago.  Old building.  Different stories, different time frame.  He moves quick through this area as it hurts his eyes.  

I love this area.  But we scoot.

And keep on. 

I posted this picture yesterday on my instagram. 

Something about behind every good man....and on and on I went. 

About how there's to be a good woman. 

If I could journal their journey through this it would look different than the eyes I see through. 

From their nightly ritual tucking away in a hospital recliner bed, night after night for almost 30 nights.  And the puking and pooping next to their beds while nurses and doctors come in every 30 minutes.  The beep from the iv.  The blood, sweat and tears-- LITERALLY

Jen waking at 4:30am to drive to Mission Viejo from Duarte.  Digest that a second.

Not able to kiss her boyfriend.  To get or give hugs.  Masked in the corner.  Wearing gloves.

Helping him shower when his mom can't. Watching him SIT in the shower letting warm water run down his face in complete sickness. 

Begging for mercy. 

I can't journal their journey. 

But I do know this has made our family a tighter knit.  

I do know he will get through this, and they will love with more meaning.

Love will keep us together. 

Cancer won't win this battle. 

Not in this family.  At least that is what I pray to our God.  

Please don't destroy us.  We've been through enough.  

Shed mercy on us.  Please-

Grow baby grow....

Come home Kris---

I love you more than you'll know until you have a baby of your own.

Happy Friday--

Go spread kindness.  And love.  

Smile at those that need one.  Because you never know what people are battling.

This Warrior Mama Lisa

Happy EARLY Birthday Regina!  I hope YOUR weekend is filled with good times, happy people and FIREBALL!