November 27,2008

Sam and I were in the hospital for 7 hours today. He received the 3 leg injections and then had to wait 5 hours to see if he would have a reaction. He slept quite abit, watched a movie and some t.v., had a visit from Auntie LaDonna, Uncle Mel dropped off some french fries (which he was craving), and later Uncle Mel came back for a visit and brought Cameron from the Cougars hockey team. After about 5 1/2 hours, and no allergic reaction, he was given 2 more chemo drugs, deaccessed, and then we headed home for supper. He was rather anxious to leave!

He had a good dinner and is now catching up on homework while I'm typing. He's definitely experiencing many similar symptoms from the consolidation stage he went through previously in the summer.

I often joke around with Sam that his chemo drugs are somehow airborne and by osmosis we are affected and experience weird symptoms. Like these for example: Ger forgot a staff social event while I was in Vancouver, I showed up to an appointment today on the right date, at the right time, but was 2 months early, Katelyn and Karly are somewhat distracted, forgetful, and very teen-like (oops, that's because they are!), and we are all more tired than usual. Okay, this is just too funny and timely. Ger just this second walked in the house and I asked him why he drove by Karly in the parking lot at school. She had just called one minute ago and asked why her dad did that. Ger had just dropped off Katelyn to babysit and went to school to pick up Karly, as planned, but when he got there he couldn't remember why he was there. He drove around the parking lot and looked at the new lights they put up around the hockey rink and came back home! He then walked to the garage and came back in and asked Sam and I if he had blood on his forehead. How did that happen, I asked. He bumped a shovel that was not hung up well and it fell and bopped him on the head... See what I mean, it must be the chemo! Anyway, he's on his way to get Karly now and we will continue to blame and use the chemo as our scapegoat of excuses.