Today was the first Monday of the new year  . . . and boy, did it feel like it.

I did manage to wake up on time (actually, I woke up every other hour to check the clock), but found many inches of snow burying my car. We made it to the hospital (unlike many doctors who reported two hour commutes), only to find that, yet again, not a single nurse was able to draw blood off Austin’s line. I know, this sounds like a lot of high tech medical jargon that needn’t be part of the story and yet, it always seems to nose its way in. His mediport had been accessed last Friday, after our standing-up-from-the-chair mishap, and we left the line in so he wouldn’t have to be poked again all week.  But then, for the zillionth time since this thing was inserted two weeks ago, nobody could draw blood off of it. And you can’t use a line if you can’t draw blood off it.

Anyway, what it all boils down to is that what should have been an hour-and-a-half appointment turned into a five-and-a-half hour appointment and what should have been completely painless involved three separate pokes through his mediport site (already sore) with a big ol’ needle and a peripheral IV in his hand when all that failed. Plus, he didn’t get his anti-nausea med before the IV fell out of his hand (while we moved his floppy and sedated body around and around into new positions trying to get blood to flow through his line; again, the bedlam you are able to visualize should suffice), so by the time we made it to the cancer clinic an hour later, he was throwing up all over both of us.  Ultimately, all you need to know is that we seem to have fixed the line problem for tomorrow and that it was a huge pain in the ass for both him and me (especially him, but I’m the one who carries that feeling home).

The good news is that his bloodwork came back just where we wanted it and I plan to bring him to school tomorrow following radiation (assuming it doesn’t take an extra four hours!), which we are both very excited for. He hasn’t seen his pals in a month and I think (hope) he’ll just ease right back into his old routine. He certainly still looks and acts like his old self.

As I was recounting the morning’s miseries to my mom she reminded me that, while today went worse than expected, last week went better than expected. And that’s a pretty good trade-off.

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