Justin has never been one to shy away from saying how he feels. He’s told a nurse, “You’re not the boss of me.” He’s told me, “I hate you mommy.” (I know it’s only the anger and fear talking) But the most difficult to hear is a phrase he keeps repeating, “I want to go home.”

Me too, baby, me too.

Justin’s hemoglobin level is too low so he needs red blood cells. He will have a blood transfusion this morning. He will have his second dose of chemo later today.

The morphine continues to keep him relatively pain free, but he can not stand to be moved or touched. His bones, particularly hands and feet, are still causing him a great deal of discomfort. He cannot bear weight on his feet at all. He is a baby again. We have been carrying him and I had to put a diaper on him. Carrying him to the potty became too painful.

I finally got around to brushing my teeth. I saw a pale, puffy, ragged looking girl looking back at me in the mirror.

“I will lift my eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help. My help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth.”

I don’t remember the scripture reference, but this passage keeps coming to mind. I must have memorized it at some point.

O Lord, come quickly and be my help. Reach out your healing hand and touch my boy.