Wise beyond his years

Cancer is a strange thing.  In some ways it makes everything stand still and in some ways it speeds everything up.

So many aspects of our lives have been brought to a complete halt.  Our social life only includes those people who realise that “yes, we will be there” actually means “yes, we will be there – provided there isn’t any trace of fever/vomiting/diarrhoea/lethargy/dehydration/anaemia/neutropenia/pananoia in the run-up to the event and even though we may tell you we will be there in 5 minutes, we may actually be in hospital in 4.

Wouter and I can only go anywhere on our own when we manage to arrange someone who has an intimate knowledge of the do’s and don’ts for looking after the children.  Do be overly vigilant.  Don’t let a bucket out of your sight.  Fortunately my parents are usually available.  We don’t trust many people with the responsibility.

You know what?  I just realised that this post is turning into a woe-is-me one again.  And I don’t feel all woe-y tonight so I am going to stop my lamentation right here and skip onto happier news. 

After our fabulous weekend away we reported for chemo today.  Sharon drew the blood (through the Broviac) and Boeta and I took it to the lab ourselves.  Two reasons – firstly the results are out a lot quicker that way and secondly Woutertjie was itching to get out of the room.  All the way there he showed the bag with the tubes to everyone we passed and told them that it was his “bloed tellings” (blood counts).  I didn’t know that he knew the terminology.  I asked if he wanted to take the blood to the lab and he started talking about his blood counts.  Amazing.  Even more amazing is how he muscles through the “l” sounds.  It is a new thing.  He used to just ignore Ls or replace it with Js.  Now he insists on pronouncing them.  It is very sweet and a potent reminder of how young he still is.

The lab staff are so amazing.  They welcomed him into their domain with open arms and showed him how they did the tests.  He looooved it.  It is the second time we went there but he was a lot less uptight this time.  Thank you to every single person at PathCare Panorama.  You are very special.

His full blood count was perfect but his U&E came back not so bright.  U&E tests for kidney functions/electrolytes/dehydration/that sort of stuff.  He was definitely dehydrated and his levels hinted at imminent kidney failure, according to Cristina.  So after his 15 minutes of Vincristine and 4 hours of irinotecan (Campto) he got another 200ml of fluid (half Darrows).  He is feeling a lot better tonight and “flew like Buzz Lightyear” – that means that he shouts “to infinity and beyond” and then launches himself onto the couch.  Carien was hysterical with laughter.  She misses Boeta more than you can imagine.  She just isn’t cut out to be an only child.

It was a good day.

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3 Responses

  1. Lovely post.
    And thinking of you, as always 🙂
    x

  2. I am always amazed about just how much children absorb when we think they are just tagging along! Continuing to carry you in my thoughts and prayers!

  3. kinders is maar net amazing en die bond wat ‘siblings’ vorm is so special. Dink aan julle, elke dag x

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