In like a lion and out like a lamb.... isnt that the saying? Not for Nick that's for sure.
This week Nick is doing all of his scans to check on how the chemo is working. If all goes well then he should not have to have any more chemo but may or may not require radiation.
This weekend we went away to get my Grandpas house cleaned out as its been sold and Nick decided to come. He claims that its because I worry about him (which is true) but I think that a bigger reason is that he doesnt like to stray too far away from his mommy.
The day that we arrived Nick went out to dinner with his Dad and Grandparents who live up there and he made plans for another visit the following day but unfortunately he didnt get that second visit.
For the remainder of the weekend Nick stayed in bed dealing with vomiting, body weakness and fatigue.
During the ride home Nick slept most of the way only waking to ask for a drink or remind me for the millionth time that he is sure that he is dying.
The following morning within moments of arriving at the clinic he was hooked up to an IV for hydration and anti nausea medication.
When his bloodwork came back his panel showed that his levels had really dropped. His neutrophil count had dropped from 16.3 to 0.1 - his body had no ability to fight for its self and they suspected that he picked up a virus over the weekend.
The nurses as per usual were great and we made arrangements for him to remain at home on an IV instead of having to stay in the hospital.
Nick is struggling right now emotionally, he is hopefully in the last lap of this treatment marathon but he is feeling his worst. He is weak and frail and has so many painful side effects.
We have been dealing with tears often over the last few days and while its completely normal and likely helpful to express, its still very difficult to watch.
Nick has convinced himself that all of these side effects, ailments and conditions that come along with cancer and its treatments are proof of its failure. He has maintained a very stoic attitude all along but I think that its starting to crumble. He is angry about being poked and prodded, exhausted from the physical toll that this disease takes and is terrified of death and how painful it would be if it happened.
When through tears he confides that he feels like hes dying and the treatment isnt working there is only so much that I can say with confidence to reassure him because in all reality I dont have anymore answers then he has - he likely has more answers then I do because its his body.
The rest of this week is more tests and then next week we will sit down with "the team" and discuss what will happen next, but for now its getting through the day and all of the chaos and drama that it brings and focusing on the little reasons to smile.... drinking my tea while its still hot, not being so sidetracked that I burn dinner, remembering to wash the soap out of my hair before I get out of the shower, finding more then one cucumber slice in the fast food salad that I often eat in the van and listening to my boys laugh and play blissfully unaware of all the turmoil that surrounds them.