Now, so close to the end, I’m actually loosing track on what week we’re in. Turns out, it’s week 17, the 2nd of 3 treatments of Cycle 6.

And he’s an anxious mess.

Puking before we made it out of the parking garage. While in triage. During port accessing and de-accessing. When the med was started.

He is so messed up from this.20170907_085131-01[1]

We discussed why we have to do treatment. He knows cancer can be a death sentence. But, in the moment, that doesn’t matter. He doesn’t like it. He wants no part of it.

He spent yesterday curled up in my lap in a recliner for the duration, asleep or half-asleep the whole time. But, as soon as he was de-accessed, he was raring to go and went to Art Therapy for the first time (they didn’t do it over the summer). After he finished his art piece, he was asked how it made him feel. Happy. It makes me happy, too, to be honest. Then we played BINGO with everyone before heading home. Some good time with everyone to finish up the day and turn it around.

5 more treatments….

—-

Side note: I’ve got a bazillion (not exactly…more like 100) Team Joey Kid Fest shirts (youth sm-lg, adult sm-med) and #TeamJoey wristbands left and am getting ready to do a mail run, if anyone wants to add on to it.

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