I just wanted to let you know that there are easier ways to get someone else to clean your room for you than confining yourself to the hospital and getting poked and prodded a gazillion times a day. Surely a little case of mono or a broken leg would have done the trick just fine. Of course, since the hospital method did prove highly effective in your case, I hope you realize the shock you caused your dear mother when I saw the floor in your closet for the first time in years. Carpet over the hardwoods in there? Who knew?!

Love you sweetie! Get better soon!

Love,

Mom

the fevers have subsided!

the mucositis is improved!

Spencer had a little big earwax removal procedure yesterday that went down in the nurses' record books for its pure awesomeness. It was so impressive, in fact, that Nurse Becca saved the wax so she could show off its massiveness to her colleagues (and to me, who, to your relief, resisted taking a picture of it for the blog). With the wax gone though, the doctors can see that he has an infection in his right ear. He's on so many antibiotics right now already though, so he should be good.

he's in process of receiving his 4th blood transfusion.

he's devouring the Heroes of Olympus series.

they're trying a new anti-nausea medicine and anesthesia for tomorrow's spinal tap and they've warned us that it's likely going to make him extra sleepy for much of the day. If you're planning on visiting on Thursday, you'll definitely want to call the room first to make sure he's up for it.

It's hard to describe all that's gone through my mind since that first moment, two weeks ago today, when the pediatrician first uttered the word 'leukemia' to us. I've had moments of sobbing panic when I let my mind dwell on some of the scary possibilities that may lie ahead for us. Other times I just feel a sense of mourning over the old life we used to take for granted. A life where we our biggest concerns revolved around homework, chores, and what was for dinner. Now we find ourselves muddling through talk of cytarabine side effects and other medical jargon we wish we could have stayed blissfully in the dark about.

Looking back at the very beginning moments of this journey though, when we were just beginning to glimpse the unknown paths ahead, we have recognized the hand of God at every turn, even in the very timing of his diagnosis.

Just as I can hardly turn a corner without a set of arms enveloping me in a hug lately, we literally feel that we have the arms of God and an entire community around us every step of the way. Though we do occasionally have those dark moments where we find ourselves faltering, overall we have felt a pervading sense of peace that no matter where this journey takes us, that we will be okay. Not that it will be easy or not be filled with heart-wrenching, difficult moments as we watch our son endure pain, but that at the end of it all, that we will be okay...even better people for having lived through it.

....had to get platelets twice today to get his blood counts up to par for his spinal tap.

...had his fourth spinal tap this afternoon.

...will likely get another blood transfusion tonight. His blood counts are dropping quickly now, as is expected as the chemo kicks into gear.

...I caught the nurses in an error today when, as he was getting ready for the anesthesia for his spinal tap, the nurse mentioned his current weight of 60 kg. Yet Glen had just told me last night that he'd weighed in at 55.8 kg. yesterday, so I insisted that I would feel better if they weighed him again, just to be safe. Sure enough, he weighed 56.2 kg. today, a pretty significant difference of 9 pounds from what they were about to base the anesthesia amounts on.

...that mucositis totally sucks.

...that morphine is lame, anticlimatic, and completely overrated.

...that he happily accepts all donations of delicious soft foods, including muffins. (Thanks to Bro. Dahlquist for bringing the only food Spencer's been able to eat all day)

...he is not sad about missing midterms this week.