The results are in and the scan was clear!!! We received the preliminary report late last night and there doesn’t appear to be any new growth!!! We’ll await the full report but everything looks great for now.

Laughing, crying, dancing and singing today. Sending out a huge THANK YOU to everyone who prays for us, thinks of us and loves us.

This was our first MRI in three months and we know now that his treatment is working.

Fear. It’s primal. We as humans fear many things, real and unreal, horrible and ridiculous. Heights, flying, public speaking, spiders, bears, snakes. The thing one person most fears is what another scoffs at. And often, our fears tend to be completely unrealistic or downright laughable. For example, I am afraid of the dark. In my own house. What, pray tell, could there possibly be to hurt me in my own bedroom? Nothing. My fears are the product of an over-active imagination run wild, and too many horror films. Many, many people are afraid of flying, translate, dying in a plane crash. Yet, not many people are afraid of dying in a car crash and the chances of doing so are far more likely. So many people, especially women, are afraid, and I mean phobic of insects. Yes, they are repulsive, but most of our Canadian insects can’t really hurt you, (Ok, Australia, another story…) so what is it about them precisely that is so very, very scary?

Expect the unexpected.

I had really hoped that Gavin would have this last week of relative freedom at home before heading back to hospital for Operation Stem-Cell Part 2. I had planned on keeping him isolated at home this week while his neutropenia is at its worst, barring the development of any fevers of course.

Last night he woke up a couple of times, vomiting and upset. Something was clearly on the rise. I took his temp compulsively every 10 minutes all morning, watching it slowly tick upwards to an obvious low-grade fever. We had an appointment at clinic anyway, and I knew that he would probably end up being transfused today, so I headed to hospital knowing that they might check us in but refusing to pack a preparatory bag anyway.

Today is about gratitude and thanks.

I have spent most of my life being mostly nice, but also quite selfish. I mean, most of us are self-absorbed to a certain extent, and I am no exception. I know that I’ve been thoughtless at times, but I like to think that over the years I’ve matured. Just a bit.

Of course, becoming a mother knocks a lot of that self-interest right out of you, because you are no longer the most important person in your life. And honestly, there’s just no time to be all caught up in me, me, me. Yes, I admit that at many points in this journey through motherhood, I’ve wailed, “What about me? I need some time to myself! I haven’t had a haircut in six months! etc.” I look back on that self-pity now and just have to laugh.

Sleep, sweet elixir of life. I love sleeping, and I’m pretty good at it if I do say so myself. I can sleep on buses, trains and planes, ferries, beaches, park benches and uncomfortable hospital beds. The issue for me is that I never get enough sleep, I mean the 8 hours that I long for. I admit that I’m a night owl. I don’t know what it is, I really get a second or third wind around 10:00 and have a lot of difficulty convincing myself to go to sleep, but end up reading, watching telly or doing random, unproductive things online until the wee hours of the morning. Maybe because of this, I find that my best sleep hours are between 6 and 8 in the morning. It feels tortuous to wake up before 8, so yes, I’m totally a morning crank.

I’ve got the night away from the hospital, Craig is looking after Beanie, and we are hoping for a relatively quiet night. It was an uneventful day, apart from a spectacular projectile vomiting episode in the playroom, Gavin continued to feel pretty well and wanted to play a lot. He had an evening visit from Bubby and Da and was distraught when they left, but also didn’t have a lot of energy. Poor little man is on Ativin which always makes him act like David After Dentist.

Since my last post was excessively laden with negativity, I’d like to try today to be a wee bit more positive. Thanks to all my beautiful friends though, for supporting me in being a complainer through and through.

Enough complaints! Just the facts, then. After our unsuccessful stem-cell harvest, we were moved back over to 8A - the “regular” oncology ward - and out of quarantine in 8B. I was glad to move, as there are some strict rules over there preventing the coming and going of visitors. However, I wasn’t thrilled to find that we no longer have a private room and are in a ward. There never seem to be enough beds, which says a lot, I think, about the number of children out there with cancer.

Four years ago today my incredible boyfriend/fiancé Craig became my incredible husband Craig. Two years ago last week he became the incredible father Craig.

Snuck out of the hospital tonight for celebratory sushi and Sapporo whilst Gavin ordered Bubby and Da around, I surmise.

I am frustrated, angry and ready to scream at the inefficiencies that bog down our hospital system.

Today was our third and final day spent in the dialysis unit in order to try to collect enough stem-cells to move forward with Gavin’s treatment. Each day, Gavin has to have a blood transfusion in order to proceed with the procedure. Each day, there is a chance that he may react adversely to the blood products or to the Benadryl he’s given to prevent an allergic reaction. Today was the day it happened.