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Apr 18

April Vacation 2016

I like April vacation – but I sense that this one is not one that I’m going to want to repeat.

My Jessie is off to Florida – a reality that makes me squirm a little bit when I think about it.  She’s so much farther away than she’s ever been, and I won’t see her until Thursday.  I know it’s a fantastic opportunity for her, she’s off with her best friend, and having so much fun – but I miss her like I’d miss my arm.

My Sam is still a mess.  I forced him into a bath yesterday, it took a half hour of yelling and him begging me before I got him in there – and then he promptly fell asleep (for the night) at around 4:00 yesterday afternoon.  He woke up this morning around five thirty and started throwing up.  He threw up two or three times, and then I gave him some zofran (because that’s how I roll now, prescription drugs for vomiting), and got him to take his meds.  He’s better now, at least a little bit.  He’s holding down ginger ale and white rice, and playing on his kindle.  Asked for pain meds, and I was able to get him to take the diamox.

Julianna is out with my mother for the day – enjoying Concord and Patriot’s Day.  And I’m incredibly grateful – on a couple of different levels.  I love that Julie loves going out with Grammy, and I love that that my mom is so happy to take her and make sure that Julie is having a fun vacation.  Because sitting her, cleaning vomit and watching Sam play on the kindle isn’t any way to spend such a gorgeous day.  But I’m jealous – because I wanted to be able to go out and do stuff today too.

I miss my boy.  My healthy boy.  I want to be able to get up, throw him some clothes and head out for the day.  Even though if he was healthy, I’d be heading out for a day at work.  But I want him better, so bad.

He is getting better.  Slowly, slowly.  But his spirits are getting better, and he’s not as reliant on the motrin/tylenol cocktail he’s been on for the past month.  He’s still unsteady on his feet, and he still can’t really see that well.  But we’re making progress.  I think.  We aren’t going backwards, at least.  Although all it takes is one vomiting episode to put me right back there – worrying about every ache, wondering if it’s a resurgence of the pseudo tumor, and will I end up back at the hospital.

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