Today we rafted down the Lehigh River. I couldn’t bring my phone on the raft for pictures, but here’s an idea of what it looked like:

We went for ice cream afterward in the quaint little town of Jim Thorpe:

And, amazing to us Jersey suburbanites, we saw deer and baby fawns on the side of the road in Arrowhead Community where we are staying:

The boys enjoyed a fun trip with their cousins. Justin had to hitch a ride in a stroller around Hershey Park because of leg and foot pain. But he was very positive about it, as opposed to, in the past, when he has felt very embarrassed.

My favorite moment was riding the carousel with Justin. He looked so happy. And he is still young enough to think that was fun. The other two blew me off in about five seconds for the rollercoasters. But Justin’s childish delight over a riding a painted horse – that one I’ll keep in my heart for harder days ahead.

Sweet memories:

Beach blessings.

Clinic went really well today. Better than it’s ever been, I would say. I attribute this to prayer and the requested Ativan (for Justin, not me, although I’m thinking I wouldn’t turn it down) to help cope with his now severe needle anxiety.

Justin is not feeling too great after the spinal and chemo, but Buddy is there for him.

Justin’s chemotherapy doses were again increased due to a very high white blood cell count. But we are still on track to end treatment on March 25, 2019.

Thank you for messages of encouragement and continued support!

 

 

Tomorrow we are back in clinic for sedation, spinal tap and chemo infusion.

Don’t be annoyed with your kids if they fail a math test or blow out the knees of their pants for the tenth time.

I’d be thrilled if Justin could fail a test and rip his pants. Because that would mean he is at school being a kid, instead of having poison injected into his central nervous system.

There will be pain and screaming and sickness tomorrow. Yet, no matter how much I will its delay, I know tomorrow will come.

I get weary of it all.

Most of the time I feel like the last scene of Rocky 2. Apollo and Rocky are both beaten and bloodied, down on the mat. Whoever gets up first wins. It’s a painful ten seconds, in slow motion, of them both struggling to stand, then falling, then struggling to stand again.

But what can I do? Freak out? Done that. Eat my emotions? Daily. Throw a tantrum? Been there. Scream and yell? You betcha.

I can tell you this. None of it makes any difference.

What keeps me from really going over the edge is faith. Faith that God is real, God is here, God is sovereign and God is Love.

I don’t know what God is doing, and I don’t like it. But I trust Him.

I’ll be face down on the mat, again, tomorrow, then trying like Rocky to JUST GET UP. Only I won’t get a trophy belt thing in the end, and Adrienne won’t be there.

I’m pretty sure this post is a big stream of consciousness mess, but that’s all I got tonight. Grace be with you, my friends.