6:45am – Time to wake up. Ugh. Maybe I’ll just stay here for a bit in this warm bed. Well, hm. I’ll see if I can start the wake up process with Jack.
6:50am – Attempt to wake Jack up. He doesn’t even stir. Go off to make coffee.
7:00am – Try to wake Jack up again. Make no progress, so return to bed to drink coffee and hope he’ll wake up on his own. Gosh, when do we hit the point where I need to find out if he’s UNABLE to wake up? Well, I’ll give it a bit longer – maybe he just needs extra sleep since he got chemo yesterday.
7:15am – He’s been asleep almost 11 hours…but he was feeling poorly last night…hmmmm, what to do. Okay I’ll drink my coffee and tend to my dragon game.
7:45am – Okay, obviously he needs the sleep – it’s even light outside now. I’ll let him sleep in and he can be late to school. I’d better let my boss know what’s going on.
8:30am – Jack wakes himself up with a few coughs and gasps. He complains he is having trouble breathing and drags himself into the living room and I make him breakfast. He complains that his arm hurts. He complains that his stomach hurts. He pounds his fist against his chest and mutters, “I neeeeeed to go to schooooool.” I tell him not to worry about it and just eat breakfast and see if he feels better afterward. I take his temperature, but it’s normal.
9:12am – Breakfast is finished, meds are taken, now he’s cuddling in bed with me while I work. Well, really, he’s slumped over in bed next to me. He has the colored pencils and paper that he asked for in front of him but isn’t touching them. Is he sleeping? No, he stirs. I wonder if I should call the clinic. I have gotten nowhere lately with calling the clinic. He was fine all weekend and now he feels like crap again. Ugh, chemo. I hate chemo. I hate this whole mess.
9:30am – The clinic calls to confirm ANC is 1,056 and that chemo has been started at the new, reduced dose. The nurse asks how Jack is doing and I tell her. She says to call if the breathing problem gets worse.
10:00am – Jack is bored. He gets up out of bed, then immediately lays down on the floor. He’s definitely not going to school today.
I give up.