Week Three

Yesterday was the beginning of week three of Brooklyn's treatment. We started the day at Children's Hospital where she was given a blood draw, blood transfusion and a shot of Vincristine aka her chemo.  Eight hours later we headed home. I'm not entirely sure why all of that took so long, but by the time we got home we were both exhausted. Brooklyn went straight to bed and didn't even wake up to eat at 3am as she has been doing for the past week.

So far the child who, up until her diagnosis had not gained a single ounce in six months, has gained four pounds in just two weeks. My once petite little girl now sports a moon shaped face and an enormous belly that is currently testing the tensile strength of her own clothing. I've been assured by the doctor that A) it is a common side effect of the steroids she is taking on a daily basis. B) most of her weight gain is likely water retention and is therefore temporary and C) any legitimate weight gain she does encounter will serve as the great equalizer when she reaches the point in her 2+ years of treatment where her appetite declines. I'm not worried, but it's a little shocking sometimes when I look at her. After her blood transfusion yesterday she became very rosey cheeked and resembled a fat little cherub with her curls surrounding her chubby little face. Speaking of curls, hers are definitely beginning to thin out a bit. I'm finding stray hairs all over the place. I know we will eventually have to pull the plug and cut her hair but for now I am enjoying their final days. Her dad has promised to shave his head when the time come in a movement of solidarity.

Another lovely side effect of the steroids Brooklyn has to take is mood shifts. Sometimes it's difficult to tell where the two year old ends and the steroids begin. She's definitely keeping me on my toes as I never quite know what will set her off next. If I tell her no, she will typically respond with a blood curdling scream, and then she will concede. But never without a protest.

All in all we are surviving. I knew this portion of her treatment would be the most difficult and so I braced myself. It feels awful to see your child feeling crummy, and even worse to not be able to explain why. But she is a tough little chick whose determination is shining right through all of the drugs and doctor visits and mood swings.