A good day, but a rough night…
It is currently just after 7:00am here. Sam is currently sleeping soundly, and I hope that Tina is having a good and lengthy sleep. Tina took a turn to sleep at our room at the Ronald McDonald House – her first night away from Sam since coming to Vancouver. Honestly it was a good night to miss… nothing major, just problems with the little things.
Reflections on April 30
Yesterday, was mostly quiet. Almost like we are entering into a routine. Sam was full of energy to start the day, feeling better than he had for months. We got out of the room, taking a tour of the ward, and checking out the youth room where we discovered options for art, music, a library of games (digital and board), movies, and video games. We made plans to start a Harry Potter movie marathon.
Sam was hungry again and I biked down to Broadway to grab a pizza (a great outing for me). It is weird, but life felt … normal. Our normal, now includes regular check-ins with nurses and doctors who are doing their routines of checking vitals, taking blood, loading Sam’s supplemental feeding, adjusting oxygen… this is normal? this is routine? Yes, it seems to be… and it was all going well until it wasn’t.
It is amazing how one tiny little thing can mess up your routine Something jammed up Sam’s NG-tube1. Attempts to clear it resulted in spillage and literally hours of frustration and extra work by the nurses. Sam has been patient through most all of it, and lost some significant time for sleeping… it is still not cleared.
Needs, concerns, and victories
We are thankful to see Sam feeling so much better. We hope that this means he is getting better, but we will not know until Sam has his next scan which is not for about a week.
The little things matter in life – for all of us. Even though the little things may be issues in a larger storm they have a strong influence on life. I am thankful for the little-graces. I am learning to not take them for granted. I also hope for little graces in this journey ahead.
We are thankful for the medical team for all their hard work and care.
We also cannot forget the larger issue. We are in a major storm of life. Sam has cancer. His prognosis is unknown. We choose hope, but that does not mean waves of fear to not threaten to swamp us. We hope and pray for his healing. That the cancer would respond to treatment. That we would be able to go home together.
Footnotes
Nasogasteric feeding tube (i.e. through the nose to the gut)↩︎