Life goes on, and it is a very busy time for us. It doesn't help that I feel like I am treading water on a river that sometimes moves faster than I can keep up with. The river's rapids keep pushing me under water, but then I seem to pop up and tread again successfully. It's a very unsettling feeling.

Father's day was an amazing gift in our house. The boys had made Kev special gifts and cards that came from their hearts and we spent the whole day with family. Kev seemed to have an abundance of energy, and was more like himself than he has been. As always these days, we took lots of pictures and when I go back and look at them they make me smile. It all looks so normal, so right. The pictures leaving out the worry and strain, only showing the love and the happiness. I will always cherish them.

Chemo week number three came with a lot of trepidation, mostly due to the mistakes made last round. It went off without a hitch though this time, and leaving the hospital Kev felt really good about things, felt almost healthy. Unfortunately it didn't last. We were home only a short time when it hit him, and it hit worse than I had seen yet. He was violently ill for hours upon hours. I had to call the hospital to ask the oncologist what to do. I was frightened. They insisted he would have to come in if it didn't stop, if he couldn't take water. He couldn't become dehydrated, it would compromise his treatment, it could be very serious. Kev didn't want to go, and promised me he would try water. He was finally able to sleep, exhausted from the dry heaves that had racked his body for hours. I woke him intermittently and pretty much forced him to have the water, but he didn't argue, didn't fight. He knew how important it was. We made it through the night, but for the next few days the nausea persisted and he was sick again. We had been told that chemo is accumulative, that the side effects could rear their ugly head at any time. They weren't kidding. I do believe we are lucky that this happened in round seven. Had it been right from the get go I don't know if Kev would have ever gone back. It truly was an eye opener of how blessed we have been.

This past off chemo week has been filled with kid stuff to keep our minds off of what happened. Kev's energy still wanes, and he has developed some sort of infection in his throat caused by the treatment, but again we are treading water and our heads are above the surface. Cian graduated from nursery school, Quin received his yellow belt in judo, Quin turned seven and Cian turned four. Birthday parties and a baby shower have made this week go very quickly, with wonderful memories and a great dose of happiness. These are the things that are bolstering Kev's spirits, and putting the fight back in him even when he breaks down and sobs, which still happens in the quiet of the night.

Here we are again, looking down at the final chemo week. This time the prize at the end is the birth of our little boy. Kev and I will be at Sunnybrook on Monday, and we will get through whatever happens together . His nurse Kay will come and unhook him from the chemo on Wednesday, and Thursday we go together to the hospital to welcome this gift of a child into the world. To me, as it is the end of this round of chemo, it is a sign of new life, new beginnings. One cold day in February, not so long ago, we were told Kev was sick, that there was a good chance he would not be there to see the birth of his child. I want those people to know that he will be the one holding his son with the big smile on his face in case they don't recognise him.