Monday, 28 September 2009

Zoe: Side effects

Some kids sail through their treatment protocols apparently... unfortunately, Sonny isn't one of them. His chemotherapy protocol is hard core by anyone's standards, sometimes enduring 3 types of chemo a day over a 6 month period. I get a strangely comforting feeling each time one is completed and I can tick it off - like a to do list in the weeks before Christmas. Gavin and I actually hi-fived each other in Italy when he started treatment, we've never hi-fived before, but the sense of getting this thing licked was too over-powering. They talk about possible side-effects. The one thing they say WILL happen is hair loss but the others are glossed over in a may not happen kinda way. If you looked up side effects of chemo in the dictionary, there would be a picture of Sonny as the poor chap seems to get every last one of them and one thing has lead to another and to say he has been having a rough time would be a understatement: constipation from chemo, morphine from passing his mass through his kidney which causes constipation, typhlitis- an infection of the bowel caused by drugs thinning the bowel, diarrhoe, rocket high temperatures and now glandular fever which has been lying dormant in his beautiful body only surfacing now when he is too weak to fight it off. We spent two weeks praying for a pooh and I've now spent 1 week delivering pots of tea-like pooh to the sluice room to be measured against his fluid intake. Meanwhile his dictated daily protocol of chemo has been put on hold while a whole side of the hospital we never thought we'd meet tries to work out what the hell is wrong with him and how they can make him more comfortable. Tomorrow we will meet the gastro team - I like the sound of them. My favourites so far apart from the amazing cancer curing team are the surgical team who arrive very early while you are in your pyjamas and hunt in packs of 10 and the Pain Team - what a job title! They have been amazing providing Sonny with much needed pain relief that wasn't going to bung him up in the form of Ketamin, handily dispersed by a hand-held pump. I'll never forget the relief of the first night of him being pain free for an hour at a time punctuated with 20 mins of scream-out-loud-mummy pain after 3 days and nights of being unable to offer him anything more than paracetamol and breathing methods last used to deliver him. All the time seeing other children whizzing past the window on scooters... the ones who sail through chemo grrr.

1 comment:

  1. I think this is a brilliant idea! Really really good to be able to hear how things are without hassling you and anyone who has just visited you! Sonny we think of you such a lot. Sonny, your mum has written about you having a hard time (pardon the pun)sneaky poo at the moment (we have all been there, don't be embarassed) and all I could think of were fart cushions! They always make me giggle lots. Im hoping Jamie and I might be able to visit next week and I think we will pack a fart cushion in Jamie's trousers in case you fancy some horrible sounds. Loads of Love Melinda and Jamie and the rest of the family too xxxxxx