Will had an incredibly difficult weekend. From Friday to Monday he lost all the weight he had worked so hard to gain. He is very weak and is now unable to walk much without assistance. He started having severe stomach pain Monday night. When we arrived for chemotherapy on Tuesday, the oncologist thought it would be best to postpone treatment until Wednesday and admit him into the hospital to figure out what was going on.
So we once again found ourselves in a place we are far too familiar with…the ER. The nurses now know us by name, which does have its advantages. They always try to get us in a room, rather than being in the dreaded hallway. We were in the ER until Tuesday evening when they moved us to a hospital room. They believe the pain is being caused by digestive issues related to the feeding tube and medication. They are working on getting that under control. Today has been a really hard day, but he was doing better than earlier in the week. Will lost more weight this week and is now at the lowest weight he’s been so far. I think once we get home and can get back on track with our routine, he will hopefully start gaining weight and strength again. We don’t know when he will be discharged, but hopefully the next day or so.
While he was in the ER, they did another CT scan of his lungs and abdomen to see if they could find out what was causing his pain. We were both terrified with this scan. My tears have been few these past months, as my need to function must trump my emotions, but as I waited in the hall for him to finish this scan, I broke down. Every scan has shown something, and each time it seems to get worse. This time they were doing the entire area… what were they going to find? I fell to my knees and cried, praying with every ounce of my being. Every emotion and thought and tear and prayer all ran together where I couldn’t tell one from the other. All of me laid out before God in the cold, empty, bright fluorescent hallway. And, then Will was finished. It was a relief just to see him. Seeing him obviously didn’t change the results of anything, but when we’re together all of this feels a little more manageable. And with great thankfulness, we can report that they did not find anything else! The only thing they saw was the same spot in his lung and it hasn’t changed.
This cancer and treatment have been absolutely terrible in every sense of the word, but Will is amazing. He is living each moment as best he can. Sometimes that has been trying to sleep just to get to the next moment or crying or being the comedian in the room. Other times it’s been finding whatever he can find to connect with and distract himself from what he’s going through at that moment. Yesterday, when he was getting ready for radiation, they put on his usual… the Beatles. Love Me Do was the first song to come on. As the technicians gathered his mouthpiece that holds his mouth completely still and his mask that bolts his head and shoulders to the table ensuring no movement what so ever, Will sat, listening, and bobbing his head to the music until it was time to be bolted down. It was as if all he had to do in that moment was listening. About 9 songs later, he had completed one more treatment.
We are now down to 6 treatments. He will have 4 next week (because of the holiday) and then Monday and Tuesday of the following week. Chemo will be this Tuesday and the following Wednesday and then he’s done and we wait. They said we will have to wait about 2 months to see how he has responded to the treatment.