Wiped Out

Caleb underwent another round of the red chemo today.  "Big Red" has zapped his energy level.  Eating is even too much trouble.  Nothing too funny to share about steroid cravings, as there are fewer this time.  However, his love of mayonnaise has returned, along with eggs & black-eyed peas.

Cal was ready to go home after two rounds of chemo, including Doxorubicin ("Big Red").

Caleb's irritation level is high, but he's doing his very best to keep so-called "'roid rage " under control. 

Shortly after leaving the hospital today, I heard sniffles coming from the backseat.  I got scared he was catching a cold and quickly repositioned my rear-view mirror to look at him.  It was a heart-wrenching scene.  His little cap was down over his face, but I could see alligator tears rolling off of his chin, into his lap.  Caleb is stoic and strong and seldom cries.  I didn't say a word, but pulled into the first parking lot I came to.  I got out, gently unbuckled his seat belt, scooted his booster seat over,  & got in the backseat with him.  His little body just went limp in my lap, but his strong arms gripped my neck so tightly.  I don't know how long we held each other and cried.  I don't even know why we were crying.  It seemed like a culmination of things for him:  Trying to control his feelings from steroids, a new chemo regimen that has stolen his strength, serious leg pains from the treatment, and conversations from medical workers that his hair will fall out soon.  I cried for all of those things too - plus wanting all of this to go away for him, yet knowing it's going to get so much worse over the next three months.

I reminded Caleb about God's important word in 2 Corinthians:

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.  Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.  That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. "

 I reminded Caleb to talk to God on the hard days and on the good ones, as well.  It was quite a grown-up reply.  He said, "I know Mommy, I do that all the time.  He always tells me stuff too."  Goose bumps.  I asked him, "What does He say to you?"  He said, "It's private stuff."  More goosebumps. 

By God's grace, we are all getting stronger through the pains of dealing with cancer; even Caleb, who is physically at his weakest.  His conversations with God intrigue me, especially that he feels it's a two-sided conversation.  WOW.  That is one of the most powerful things anyone has ever told me.  Our tears ended with a big squeeze and small, knowing smiles that "everything is going to be okay".