4:15 pm: Harvey is lively today! Lindsey and I are enjoying every single moment of it. He had a great night of sleep, has been eating well, and has been very active. So far he’s had 2 full walks, spent 30 minutes playing “chef Harvey” in the playroom kitchen, pedaled the tricycle all around the 7th floor, and right this moment: We’re going for a scavenger hunt. Be right back…
And, we’re back! He found all 10 hidden cars and trains on his scavenger hunt. We’re now up to 3 walks today. My heart is full seeing him back to his normal, playful, happy self. This is what a 4 year old should be doing, be thinking, be feeling. It shakes me to the core knowing that at any moment, his care team will enter the room to administer his next round of chemotherapy. No joke, nearly right on my cue, his two nurses arrived. Suiting up to protect themselves from getting any of the treatment on themselves. All of it reserved for Harvey. In this very moment, I feel like I’m saying goodbye to him for a few days. His energy, his sparkle, his liveliness will soon be absent from our lives again.
I’m terrified for his next stage of treatments. This current stage of induction is sometimes referred to as “the honeymoon stage” of cancer treatment, being much easier than what’s to come. And it’s already been so hard on him. He is now happily playing with stickers at his Paw Patrol-themed table. In my peripheral vision, I can’t ignore the red-colored poison inching slowly through a plastic tube toward my son.
Looks like you had fun on your scavenger hunt today. And how cool that you got to ride a bike!
Sending lots of hugs your way! Miss seeing you at breakfast and especially walking with you to hop in the van with your dad at the end of the day. We all miss your big smile and and your celebrity wave goodbye when you drive off! 😊