The Popular Kid

Teague is a favorite at the hospital. I didn't realize how much so until the registration clerk commented that when Teague leaves, it's like a parade. Everyone comes out of thier places and sees him off. He waves, shouts, "See ya," gives high fives, and sometimes even gives hugs and kisses. One nurse said she loves starting her day off that way.

It's hard to believe how well Little Mr. Goodwill is weathering his treatments so far. He still has his hair, his skin doesn't look irritated yet, he's still got his appetite, and his sleep/wake patterns are the same. Makes me wonder in a weird way if this radiation is working. Dr. Watson said that usually the sedation is what's hardest on the little kids, so maybe things will stay this good for my little one.

Side effects or not, it's still a game of wait and see and hope. That may be part of what's wearing me down. I'm fatigued physically and frayed emotionally. And I know it shows. I'm sporting that haggard look that makeup, a hairdo, and an outfit don't fix. Beauty rest is not a myth. Emotionally, I wouldn't necessarily say I'm a wreck, but I do cry at TV commercials and e-mail forwards. It's kind of like that postpartum feeling, but it's not hormonal; it's just constant, gnawing stress. No matter how good life is, having your toddler in cancer treatment takes a toll.

But I can count blessings. Probably the most obvious one right now is that Teague is happy and energetic. Really, he is pure joy. Excited about life. He is my example and my bright spot because he doesn't know what there is to be stressed about. He is refreshing.

I'm so glad that he enjoys going to treatment. Almost every time we get into the car, he says, "Doctor?" If we say no, he says, "Awwww," in a whiny voice.

It's also good that he knows the routine: he leads the anesthesiologist of the day by the finger into the radiation area, pats the huge machine ("Pat-pat," he says), sits on the table and leans against me, and helps push the "sleepy meds" into his own body. Once when it hadn't yet taken effect, he said, "More." The next thing he knows, he wakes up and asks for crackers. And he sings on the way home.

No pain and lots of attention--who wouldn't love going to the doctor?