Week 28

We are coming down the home stretch.  Jasmine had her third to last chemo treatment this week.  It went pretty good. She was such a big girl.  She behaved for the most part.  We never really had any fits or episodes to try to calm down. Other than the fact that she would be very upset if I left her view.  Everything from getting out of the car, to trying to use the facilities by myself, ...it was must wait for Mommy. It makes me feel all warm inside but troubled all at once.  I try to explain when I do have to leave and why but it never gets across.  I let her know that Mommy has to use the potty too but realize that I need back up the minute I turn my back.  Several times she tried to escape the bed with IV lines and all to keep me from going to the in room bathroom.  I had to have David hold her back.  Sometimes she just wanted to be held and other times she just wanted me to hold her hand while she rested.  I have no explanation for this suddenly strong separation anxiety.  So to avoid any major episodes, any time we were on foot she followed me. If she refused to listen I used this anxiety to my benefit.  I told her I was leaving and started to move on to which she responded as expected.
Beyond this particular problem, I find that she has grown so accustomed to the routine and what to expect next.  We started out with our labs drawn before heading down to radiology for our Chest CT.  As expected, there was another mix up with scheduling.  They made it happen anyways with a short wait.  Luckily this was not something she needed to be sedated for.  Anesthesia is like non existent when we do have to have her sedated. Poor David had to deal with that once again the week before.  But that's a whole other story.  Jasmine got her CT done while she slept.  We could not ask for more.  We got her upstairs and got a bed pretty quickly.  Lately, the hospital has been seeing an influx of inpatients.  The last couple of times we have had to wait in the outpatient clinic getting prehydrated while a bed becomes available.  So after we get settled, we get lucky with Jasmine's first output.  We met the specific gravity level needed to start chemo.  Once we get chemo started, I just wait and watch.  I watch the process and the clock.  I read my book while Jasmine just rests with her hand behind her head.  Everyone always says she looks like she's just relaxing.  I tell them how when she was in the NICU with her Isolette covered, they would lift it to check on her and find her in this same position.  Arms folded behind her head and legs crossed.  They joked about it and said she looked like she should be on a beach somewhere. Her eyes were covered with the bandage because her skin was not completely formed yet.  They almost resembled sunglasses.  Some things never change.  
Jasmine's doctor said her CT came back with the report of something on lower right lung lobe.  She believed it to be a fissure. My ears accept what she's saying but my mind is processing this.  In my heart I hope that what she says is true but my mind won't let it be.  I'm worried and find myself crying for no apparent reason since I received this bit of information.  I act like this is just part of the routine and want to know when her next Chest CT will be.  I'm thinking the next CT will have to show either nothing or something. She tells me it might be the end of treatment but will check the her treatment roadmap. 
I'm very worried.  I can only remember the little blurb that was on Jasmine's initial chest xray this time last year and what that turned out to be in a matter of 3 months.  I don't take things lightly anymore. I'm keeping my self defense mechanism in place and getting myself prepared.  The thought and theoretical possibilities make me think, what do we do now?  How do we beat this? Do we do another round of this all over again? Do we do radiation?  Surgery?  I'm going off the deep end with legitimate questions for a theoretical possibility. My logical reasoning is becoming shaded with emotions I can't seem to get under control.  Time is both a gift and a torture.  I look at every hug as if its our last and treasure each day that I get to receive another.  The torture of waiting to find out how this will all pan out (at the moment the new findings) is what pains me. 
So now that Jasmine is home, she is barely eating or drinking.  They reminded us before we left that her counts were low.  We know with the neulasta her counts will come back up again. I know that if she doesn't start the day off normally tomorrow that I will have to call the doctor.  It may mean a trip to the ER.  I had hoped to do an easter egg hunt at home but might have to put that on hold.  We've been down this road before on a holiday.  We will make up for it with our back up plan. There are still some easter treats that are non edible in her basket.  She will be thrilled to see what they are either way.