This morning started eeeaaaarrrrrllllyyyyy.  We got to the hospital at 6:00 for an MRI to take another look at a little spot the docs were unsure of, but we weren’t worried.  After all the necessary prep, Alexander went under and went back for the MRI.  During that time, we learned that we needed to got to radiation to give consent.  We didn’t realize how time-sensitive it was, because we thought his first radiation treatment had been pushed back to tomorrow.  Nope.  We had to rush down to meet Dr. Merchant.  He told us all the risks of radiation we were consenting to—and radiation was about to start.  Today.  It’s so hard to listen to the whole list of bad effects of radiation at once.  Christy had trouble digesting this litany of horribles, as she did when she heard it last week. Alexander is not likely to have every side effect, but they are scary.  We shared some of them in a previous post. We consented, of course, but it was a harrowing experience.

We asked a question we have been counseled to ask but hadn’t yet: What happens if this treatment doesn’t work?  Dr. Merchant was blunt.  There is no backup plan.  It’s this or nothing.  We had been told a version of that before, but hearing Dr. Merchant say it drove it home.

My parents came to the hospital and met us to keep us company.  It was so nice to have them here for support.  Once Alexander woke up (less angry, thanks to some fentanyl thanks to Christy’s ask about this), we went to get lunch then went to an appointment in the brain tumor clinic.  We were not prepared for what came next. Dr. Emily came in and told us the results of the MRI.  That spot is not some blood vessel; it’s cancer.  The news hit me so hard.  I was confident that he was M0, but no.  His situation is direr even than we thought.

Today has only one silver lining: we have no doubt that this is the correct course of treatment.  We have to hit this with everything we have now, because there is no second chance and no time to waste. The tumor in his spine has grown appreciably in 13 days. 

This afternoon, we got our first taste of the horrors of treatment.  Alexander has had practically nothing to eat today, but he drank some water after our last appointment of the day, a prep appointment for his port placement tomorrow.  We were back at Ronnie Mac for only a few minutes before he said he needed to throw up.  He proceeded to vomit all the water he drank, so his stomach is now empty again.

He’s in reasonably good spirits now.  That’s the only reason I am confident we are not already in hell.  He was resting and then again said he needed to vomit. He tells us, and then he gets himself all the way to the toilet. It is agonizing to see him vomit (we are scarred by the vomiting that led to the diagnosis) and also hard to see his immense strength to do what he knows needs to happen. Christy asked about IV Zofran, which will start tomorrow but be administered only on treatment days. We are counting down the days until August 16th. The following month will be our golden month—our last chance to enjoy life around others for 7-12 months, depending on how he handles chemo treatment.