So Andrew's scrotum is shrinking again. No one here seems to have a good explanation, so I'm going to say it's on a lunar calendar. A couple of nights ago, I kept missing urology: I went out lunch, and they ran after me and didn't catch me. I ate a can of soup for a late dinner in the parent's room down the hall as the resident stood outside my door waiting for me for 10 minutes. I finally had the nurse call her and transfer it in my room and Andrew pulls the cord out. Someone didn't want me to talk to urology! She eventually said they wouldn't do anything now or even between treatments, but they might go in after all this is over and do some work.... Oh geesh. Talk about a million dollar baby. I'm so glad they said he could resolve it on his own, though, so I'm hoping that between now and then, that's what will happen.
I go through cycles of being okay with Andrew having cancer and feeling okay, but then when I see other really sick kids that are in much worse straights than Andrew or think much about the long-term implications of everything, I get pretty down. So I went over to the Steele's room the other night. Can I just say that I love the families here? Fantastic, really. It's just great having another mom around even if it's not my mom. It's so funny to be sad when people leave the hospital because you miss the company, and the Steeles were almost out of here last Friday, but they're back again--and hopefully not for long. They have such a different set of challenges than we do even though it's basically the same disease. They have the advantage of being able to talk to their kid and assess pain or discomfort that way, but then again, I feel like Andrew doesn't mind being nauseated as much. I've seen him many a time have a huge grin on his face even while he's upchucking breakfast. He just must not feel it like he would if he were a teenager.
Anyway, I just really appreciate so many people who have said comforting words or sent prayers our way. We love you!