I like April vacation – but I sense that this one is not one that I’m going to want to repeat.
My Jessie is off to Florida – a reality that makes me squirm a little bit when I think about it. She’s so much farther away than she’s ever been, and I won’t see her until Thursday. I know it’s a fantastic opportunity for her, she’s off with her best friend, and having so much fun – but I miss her like I’d miss my arm.
My Sam is still a mess. I forced him into a bath yesterday, it took a half hour of yelling and him begging me before I got him in there – and then he promptly fell asleep (for the night) at around 4:00 yesterday afternoon. He woke up this morning around five thirty and started throwing up. He threw up two or three times, and then I gave him some zofran (because that’s how I roll now, prescription drugs for vomiting), and got him to take his meds. He’s better now, at least a little bit. He’s holding down ginger ale and white rice, and playing on his kindle. Asked for pain meds, and I was able to get him to take the diamox.
Julianna is out with my mother for the day – enjoying Concord and Patriot’s Day. And I’m incredibly grateful – on a couple of different levels. I love that Julie loves going out with Grammy, and I love that that my mom is so happy to take her and make sure that Julie is having a fun vacation. Because sitting her, cleaning vomit and watching Sam play on the kindle isn’t any way to spend such a gorgeous day. But I’m jealous – because I wanted to be able to go out and do stuff today too.
I miss my boy. My healthy boy. I want to be able to get up, throw him some clothes and head out for the day. Even though if he was healthy, I’d be heading out for a day at work. But I want him better, so bad.
He is getting better. Slowly, slowly. But his spirits are getting better, and he’s not as reliant on the motrin/tylenol cocktail he’s been on for the past month. He’s still unsteady on his feet, and he still can’t really see that well. But we’re making progress. I think. We aren’t going backwards, at least. Although all it takes is one vomiting episode to put me right back there – worrying about every ache, wondering if it’s a resurgence of the pseudo tumor, and will I end up back at the hospital.
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