Rough end to a rough week

Chemo is getting harder and harder on Kel. He looks quite anemic and has been sleeping most of the day. Energy is harder and harder to come by lately for him. He slept well last night - almost 8 hours, and then tacked on another 5+ hours during the day. Then he went to bed earlier than David and has been sleeping for a few hours already.

Other than a shot of stimulating factor to stimulate red blood cell production, I am not sure what to get for him. Iron may help a little, even if just to allow his hemoglobin to carry more oxygen.

I was catching up on a few back episodes of Grey's Anatomy while everyone else in my house was sleeping, and a few weeks ago the episode was about how important one hour can be and how much can change in an hour. It made me think of many 'hours' - the first time Kel felt significant pain in his abdomen/side that we ignored. The hour between leaving his CT scan, getting a call from the PCP and going to the ER. The hour when we learned the source of the mass in his back ... and oh yeah, in his lungs too. Most of the time in between those hours are a blur, but those I remember. The hours that flipped our world.

Feeling sad and angry again tonight at all of this cancer crap. I think the people in this house shouldn't go to sleep before me. It makes me sad and angry. Not that they are sleeping, it just gives me time alone to think.

Think of pain, and sorrow, and lost loves.

We past a graveyard taking Sue to the mall on Saturday afternoon. Whenever we do that, David points out where Nana is. And I explain again that while it is similar, Nana rests in a place by Papa's house. And then we go through it all again - why? Where is Tahoe? Are Tahoe and Nana together? And it lasts a few days because I don't know the words to explain to a not quite 4 year old where we go when we die. All I can explain is that they aren't in pain anymore. And for them not to be in pain anymore it means we can't see them. We just have to remember them.

This is probably the bigger source of the sad and angry, not other people sleeping.

David didn't get to say goodnight to Kel tonight because he was already asleep. But we came in to the room so David could whisper to Daddy. And we hope daddy feels better tomorrow night for a hug and a kiss.

Thankfully Sue will be here tomorrow to help take care of David, since I teach again. But then she leaves Tuesday afternoon. It has been a great help having her here, and a comfort for Kel.

My head is starting to hurt from crying through writing this, so I am going to conclude with the sux for the night. I will be fine, btw, it is good to cry sometimes.

Ok, chemo fatigue has got to be tonight's sux. Fatigue so bad you can't walk, or move around too much, or do anything really. Unrelenting tired. All encompassing tired. And that is only what I can see, I don't even know. I just see Kel falling asleep all of the time, and so fatigued that he can't keep his eyes open while walking through a store. But then he wakes in the middle of the night and will be up from 3 or 4 am on. The fatigue hits hard, but randomly, and in doing so unceasingly perpetuates itself.

Unrelenting tired. And that sux.