Otherwise, though, this round has been mostly uneventful. He's still not eating very much, and the fuzz on his head that he got between rounds has yet to fall out. He's had a few reactions to the ARA-C (Cytarabine) that have made him red on his arms, legs, and face:
The half-life of the ARA-C is pretty short, so these reactions don't last long, and are usually cleared up by hydrocortisone.
I've had a lot of exercise in patience this round. For some reason, it just seems like everything goes wrong when I put him down at night. It will happen multiple times that I will have just put him down, but they need to give him a medication, or change his diaper, or give him eyedrops, and he'll be awake for another hour or two. Last night was a long, drawn-out unhappy saga that lasted until way past midnight, when he had originally gone to bed at 7:30. It's times like these I end up calling Stew and he comes up to try to help me out while I get a bit of sleep.
Andrew's line also broke a few days ago. The blue lumen (the smaller of the two lines) has always been sluggish, so the nurse was pushing through it and the pressure made a hole near the top. I'm just grateful she had already pushed the ARA-C through. I'm not a fan of chemo being sprayed all over him. I'm positive that it wasn't her fault, though--the line had been twisted and occluding all day long.
So, Andrew was off fluids for 4 hours while they fixed the line and glued some things on. So, to keep the line out of his reach, they made him wear this funny wife-beater. Andrew wasn't phased though. He didn't know how goofy he looked.