The in between chemo week flew by without incident thankfully. Kev got some of his strength back and his spirits were up. It is truly amazing how much the spirit can affect a persons ability, both physically and mentally. It has become apparent that succumbing to the sorrow your heart feels does no good, that being positive and believing in that positivity is as essential as the chemo they drip into his arm. This is the thought I carry with my every hour of every day. Most of the time it is successful.
Monday night, the day before chemo was as usual a fitful sleepless night for Kev. For someone who hates hospitals and needles, the anticipation of what is to come fills him with fear and anxiety. It has never eased, even with the last scan result being positive. Chemo is a glaring reminder that the war has not been won, that the battle continues. It takes all of our energy and focus to get through it. I am thankful the boys are well looked after during these times so that they continue to be rather unaffected by the roller coaster of emotions both Kev and I are feeling.
Unfortunately, Tuesday was a hard day. Chemo was delayed by hours, and the process usually followed with care was not. Mistakes with administering the chemo were made, one resulting in the need to access the port in his chest twice, the other more serious, almost resulting in rendering the chemo unusable. The latter was caught by me. Short-staffed, there was a temp nurse who was unfamiliar with the protocols usually followed by sunnybrook. I pointed out the error to one of the nurses who is always on the ward and she fixed it, upset that the chemo had almost been compromised. They do take their jobs very seriously so she was understandably frustrated that someone brought in to help could undermine the job they very obviously do with expertise and care. It made me very aware of how well I have learned the language and process of chemo, and how important it is to have an advocate with you when you are having any procedure done. A second set of eyes........
We didn't get home until 8:30, again a very long day. Tired and over emotional, as I lay in bed I heard Kev sobbing in the bathroom. Sometimes it seems to be too much to bear. I lay there praying that he would remember his strength, remember those who are behind him, propping him up to continue the battle. I lay there with tears streaming down my face, hoping that when I awoke we would be o.k.
I woke up feeling stronger, the tear-stains on my face a gentle reminder that the battle was still being waged but the strength of knowing we can still win this war. We will win this war.