Kate had her second chemotherapy treament yesterday. Her brother Andy drove her to the hospital, where she also had a couple of other visitors. I dropped in from nearby work. By noon-ish she was home.
We had hoped that this post-chemo experience would be better than last time. By the time I got home from work, Kate was in bed, having had an afternoon nap.
"How do you feel?" I asked her. "Headache?"
"A little dopey," she said. "No headache."
We had a quiet night with Kate's parents, who are here to assist. Kate slept well, woke at regular time, came down for breakfast, read the newspaper, avoided coffee and dairy, helped usher the kids off to Breakfast with Santa at the school first, and then drama class.
Lawrence and I took the kids to drama class, which was delightful. (Both kids are very keen and dramatic!) By early afternoon, Kate went off with her mother to buy Owen a new snowsuit.
"Whatever they gave you yesterday, it couldn't have been chemotherapy," I told her.
Later she said, "The biggest side effect today is crankiness."
Can this last? Can this last? Is this all too much like normal? Why worry like this?
Ah, we're always half-expecting the ground to fall out from under us, so when it doesn't it seems weird.
We continue forward slowly, grateful for everything.