I’d be a liar if I said Jackson just kicked butt through all his chemo. He didn’t.
The first two rounds were like Chemo 101 for us…he had his struggles with them, but he really handled them well.
We were told the third round would be much tougher. Boy, were they right.
Enter Cisplatin AKA Cispukin’ as our hem/onc doctor liked to called it.
We tried to control the nausea the best we could, but it still made Jackson throw up. For kids, it’s pretty common to use Ativan to help them rest and treat the nausea, but after the first dose, we found out that our little guy had an adverse reaction. Instead of resting, it did the exact opposite. He was off-the-walls. All I can say is bless his heart, and bless mine. We walked the halls and the room until the medicine wore off HOURS later. Up, down. Lay, get up. Hold me, put me down. Don’t touch me. Why aren’t you touching me? I’m thirsty. This sippy cup is getting thrown across the room.
I made the nurses promise me that it would be in his chart to NEVER, EVER give him Ativan again. No matter what I said. It’s still listed as one of his Allergies.
Besides being yucky stuff, Cisplatin was the culprit of Jackson’s high frequency hearing loss. It’s why Jackson wears hearing aids today.
Photo 8 was taken once we were finally home from this round of chemo. Jackson was sleeping soundly in bed with Ev. Poor thing had slept with me on my side of the bed most of the night because I was monitoring him closely for a fever. I’d finally just rolled out and let him have my spot and took a photo to capture that moment in time. Under that blue duvet was a little black bookbag of IV fluids connected to Jackson’s central line. He was exhausted, his hair was falling out and he had no appetite.
The chemo was doing it’s job. Even so sick…wasn’t he a beautiful baby?