Waiting seems to have become the norm. Scott methotrexate level has managed to dwindle to 0.17 as of the 1 p.m. bloodwork. Moving slowly. Just hoping to reach that magic threshold of 0.10 at 1 a.m.
He's fed up. And I'm sure he's having thoughts about the next round to come. Which is supposed to be the last round of the high-dose, 24-hour infusions. The study results of his protocol (before it became a standardized treatment protocol) showed these four rounds of high-dosage proved to decrease relapse rates in T-cell ALL cases for kids. We certainly hope it does just that, as it has proven a very rough part of the process to date.
If he gets sprung tomorrow, it will be right back to clinic on Thursday for Elspar shots again. No rest for the weary in this battle.
Derry and I spent the evening at home. Derry needed the break from spending every waking moment at school or the hospital. So he and I took in the hockey game from the couch to give him a breather. Focusing on school at this time can't be easy for him. I know focusing on work is itself a major challenge through the day. He misses his brother. Misses his mom. Worries about the same thing we're all worrying about. Derry is handling this ordeal in a very mature manner. One wants their kids to mature properly, but not at this rate, and certainly not with this type of catalyst.
Both Scott and Derry just need to be "kids". It keeps you awake at night thinking how much of that is getting robbed from them right in front of your eyes, with absolutely no control over it occuring.