Noah's Second Cycle of Chemotherapy

After a week in hospital following Noah's first cycle of chemo, his second cycle was delayed by 8 days in total. This isn't too bad considering all that his body's been through!
I was so scared about his second cycle after the first one. To be perfectly honest I wasn't too upset when they were delayed. It meant his body had a little more time to recover properly. And it meant a few more days of normality; these days seem to be far and few between and it truely does make you appreciate everyday life with a fresh perspective. We have to work around the treatment and enjoy the snippets in between where we can. We have to prepare for the fact that no plan is set in stone and we could be rushing off to hospital at any time.
The thing I was afraid of was the thing most people thought we should be pleased about. His Chemo takes roughly six hours to be administered and afterwards we are free to go home providing there are no complications. This is great, or is it? As soon as we leave that hospital its up to us to decide what is considered normal and when Noah is in trouble. He's bound to have common symptoms of sickness, constipation, loss of apetite, lethargy. But what is too sick or too tired? Is he dehydrated? Does his port look normal? We don't have a fair experience to compare it to because last time he got an infection straight away and he was being constantly monitored by an amazing team of nurses. We are not doctors or nurses and no matter how many advice sheets we read we have not lived it yet. Every child is different. We just have to trust in our instincts that we will make the right decisions in caring for our boy. It is nicer for him to be at home after all.

20/07/17
Day 1

We got to the hospital a little after 9am. We had a lovely nurse show us to our bed and he started treatment around 10.45am. It couldn't really have gone much better. The worst bit for Noah was the anticipation of it all after his previous experiences. It keeps amazing me that he's so scared and yet he makes it so easy. I always think if it were Jake he'd be kicking and screaming till he were blue in the face, every step of the way. He'd have a whole room of nurses (and us) sweating from the struggle. Noah is just as afraid but somehow he accepts it. He lets me hold his hand and squeezes me tight till its over. When we were walking towards the treatment rooms a little boys screams and wails echoed down the corridor as we approached. This obviously terrified Noah and he suddenly looked very upset and uneasy. Thankfully there was nothing too traumatic about to happen to him. His port was already accessed so all they had to do was hook him up to the medicine on the pump. He really loves to assist the nurses when they give him medicine through his port or even take bloods. They let him shut the clip and push the syringe. Sometimes he feels a cold sensation when it goes in. I love it when they let him be a part of it because it gives him a sense of control and amost a little satisfaction. The most painful bit for Noah with his port is ripping the dressing off his skin when they take it out. He HATES IT- I would say as much as he hates the needle itself or maybe more.
The other thing I was worried about was the journey home. We left the hospital about 5pm. We drove all the way home so it was a long time in the car. We bought him a happy meal on the way home but I think he only ate 2 of the depressing nuggets he usually enjoys so much. He looked very tired and curled up in his chair. I asked him if he felt sick but he said no. I think nausea is maybe a little unfamiliar to someone so small. Quite often a child will seem fine and then just be sick apparently out of nowhere. Its as if he can feel it but is not quite aware that it means he might be sick. I thought he might drift off to sleep but then we realised he had had some diarrhoea in his pull up so we pulled over. As soon as we got out of the car he was sick all over sainsburys carpark until his little tummy was empty. It came out with some force and seemed to bounce back off the concrete all over our shoes. So we sheepishly made our way into sainsburys with a sick looking child covered in both poo and vomit. Luckily a really lovely young shop asisstant walked over and we explained the situation and apologised. She was totally unphased by the whole situation (if it was a 17 year old me I think I'd be slightly horrified). We cleaned him up and he was very suddenly in good spirits again, calling Ollie a poo poo and laughing in awe at the colourful display of his own vomit in the carpark. I would normally be horrified but I was mostly just pleased it had relieved him so much and it wasn't all over the car.