The Melting Of Emmah...

'Twas the last day of chemo
And the captives of the room
Passed time lamenting
Hoping passing days just zoom...

Caring nurses hung toxins
Each with great care
While Emmah sat dreaming
Future days and flowing hair...

The good doctors smile
Inquiring to her condition
Always leaves me thinking
How would you be if in her position?

As the last bags hung
The ending’s finally begun
With the line close in sight
Need to just make it this night...

So to join in our fun
Do not come undone
Just top off your lungs
Say with us IT'S DONE!

We know isolation awaits
Gazing near future dates
But tomorrow's a lucky seven
It’s the day Emmah turns eleven...

(actually today by the time most of you read this)


Ahhh... the perils of late day postings, but that's when the creativeness flows best... of course you need to consider my writings here as something creative in the first place. I mean over the years of changing kids diapers I've viewed (and smelled) things that have been pushed out that could be considered creative... so it's all subjective.

Today was a good day it began like the others... we woke up.

She took her last Emend today as well as got the last of the Decadron. She decided that the Zofran wasn't working anymore, so we're stopping that one again as well. She had eased off of the eating some Thursday afternoon into evening... as in she ate nothing after the EC had left. This morning started out the same way and try as I may, I couldn't interest her in eating anything. I told her that she needs to keep on trying cuz she weighed in at 31.75kg... for the rest of the metric challenged, that's 69.9967682 pounds. So I told her that she was one cracker away from 70 pounds... 70 pounds is our personal benchmark weight or fighting weight.

The great thing about mornings is that they are followed by afternoons... I finally got her to eat a cracker and by the time evening rolled around, she was an eating fool. Another cracker... and a piece of homemade garlic bread and some of the leftover hamburger helper that she was pilfering from me. Add to that a couple sips of Coke and you have a genuine feast going on. I shouldn't make light of the fact that she's eating. Getting her to eat anything at all is a major breakthrough as eating during chemo treatments is unheard of for her.

She spent time whipping up on the social worker/teacher playing a game called SET... the family game of visual perception... so I took this opportunity to slip away and take a shower... during which time the teacher left. Feeling rejuvenated (and smelling a tad better) I took a stab at the SET game and was quickly disposed of... she whipped me too.

I know I have been dreaming of this day ever since we started in August and finally... it's upon us. As of my writing this we are a mere 11-12 hours away from the end of the chemo treadmill. I do believe it is a treadmill that Emmah (and the rest of us) will gladly step off of. Perhaps a ceremonial stomping of the empty chemo bags will be in order. Now the rescue and isolation await and Emmah is eager to go home... wanting to entirely bypass the layover at the Kohl's house. She's resting comfortably as I tap away and wrap this up...


Wonder if she's dreaming about tomorrow?