Chemotherapy began as soon as the diagnosis was confirmed. Dr. Wilson, Joshua's new ped./onc. (pediatric oncologist) explained that there are two different courses that can be taken once this kind of leukemia is diagnosed. One is chemotherapy, the safest way to go, and in that case Josh would have a certain protocol consisting of several phases with certain drugs and doses. The other one is a bone marrow transplant (BMT), a much more risky way to go, in which case all the family would have to be tested for compatibility, as it is much more likely for family to be a good match for him (your bone marrow has to be similar to Joshua's to lower the risk of GVHD, a very serious form of rejection to the bone marrow).
They'd try with chemotherapy first, Dr. Wilson explained, and if it didn't work they'd prepare Josh for a BMT.
This was when I found myself calling Brian and asking him to pray for Josh. I knew he would probably do it anyway, as he is a Christian, but I felt better asking him specifically to do it. Not being particularly religious, I would feel strange trying to pray for Josh, though at moments it was one of my strongest desires, just to do anything to try and help him.
Ryan, Jamie and Mike's visit was short but helpful for Josh, I think. Just the thought that someone actually cared, as he told me later, was comforting.
I felt a little hurt by the comment, 'cause I care, doesn't that count? But I realized Josh meant someone other than me, but the thought that still stung was that Josh might really think I didn't care.
However, the trio had to leave soon because Josh was about to have his first chemotherapy session, not really something he was very accustomed to to begin with, and I'd read enough about cancer to see that side effects are bad, to put it nicely.
So I decided to spare the kids from what may have become an ugly sight and sent them off just about half an hour after they'd arrived. And Ryan was right anyway, the kids were just too wild and nervous to keep them around for long, because Josh was already tired to begin with, and believe me a five year old and a three year old can be tiring, not to mention if they aren't very calm to begin with. They were asking all kinds of questions and bothering practically the whole floor, or at least that's what it seemed like to my confused mind. If you don't know from experience, thinking when you've spent about 38 hours without sleeping isn't particularly easy.
So I spent the rest of that awful day, September 8th, a day that will forever be etched in my mind, with my fourteen year old son, watching him have his first chemotherapy session of a course called "Induction". Just believe me when I tell you that it's not something a father enjoys to watch.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Okay, this chapter is kind of heavy on medical stuff (compared to the rest). I hope you like it. Please review! (I just love it when I get reviews =D)
