These days it seems as if we're caught in some sort of bad medical drama. When I left earlier, it seems Scott's impression of a bloodied wrestler had been stopped. Just a bit of a speck on the dressing over his access needle. He did actually eat pretty much all of a croissant this evening. Finally got some bread down him.
His blood sugar was back in normal range through the day today, after the TPN was stopped. But it will require monitoring during his steroid pulses.
Scott did have a highlight today - at Stephanie's expense. HE got to give Stephanie a jab in the stomach. Real syringe. Real needle just like his. Her's had saline in it though (Dr. Tebbi, if you're reading this, this is all purely fictional). He cleaned her. Pinch her. Stuck her. Pushed it in. LOL. It was great. Stephanie was a bit worried at both the willingness of Scott to do such, and the happiness and madman like look on his face in the process. Not sure what to make of that.
We also had talks with dietician's, physical therapy and home nursing today. Loads of fun. I can't type what all we talked about, as I am a spaz and seem to have mental blocks today.
They did tell us when we may expect to come home, but with the track record of this stay, I'm not putting it here, as I'm sure it will cause blacks cats to cover the roof of the hospital and deliver another evil bump in the road. Either that, or a circus monkey carrying Ebola will get loose in the ward and bite Scott. Just that kinda luck we've been having.
We did have a nice visit from Anissa (whom has posted comments on here). We met Anissa and her family at the Children's Cancer Center. She has a little daughter, Peyton, whom also has A.L.L. You can read about Peyton on their website. Anissa came with more wrestling for Scott, and even a gift for Derry. Thanks Anissa, you know how little visits from folks suffering the same help.
Also need to thank Susan and Alan, whom have a little daughter just diagnosed at St. Joe's. Seems they are coffee freaks like Stephanie, and tend to go buy large pots of the good stuff at the coffee shops. The "other" Susan (Taylor's mum) keeps bringing food and coffee as well.
Everyone cast into this terrible role of "cancer kid parent" knows you seem to lean on each other. It is only natural, as you see each other all the time at clinic or when you're admitted. Kind of a misery-loves-company situation.
I'll stop blathering now, as I'm not sure I'm making sense. This stay of Scott's has sort of melted our brains, and we weren't exactly the most solid thinkers before.