It is hard to believe that we go back in today for Gideon's hospital chemo, transfusion, and the start of another week of steroids. What does Christmas on steroids look like? We are gonna find out soon...
Yes, it feels like we were just at the hospital yesterday. I feel like as soon as Gideon starts acting like himself, his sweet lovable and glowing self, we go back for more attitude altering drugs. I guess I can look at this seemingly lack of a break as evidence that the chemo process is picking up speed. Before we know it, Gideon will be six and he'll be DONE with chemo altogether. I wrote that to feel better, but in a weird way it tugged heavily on my heart. I don't want to speed-up his itty-bitty boy time. I don't want this time to speed by so that I can soak in all of the sweetness of this age, but I want this monster gone, too. Cancer robs us of so much. That's why I'm not going to let these sharks be the boss of our sea. God's love and grace is unfailing. He is our strength every morning, our salvation in time of distress. There are other gorgeous things in the ocean on which to focus our attention. Gideon gets this more than I do much of the time.
May I also say that my opinion about so many things is being altered more and more everyday? I used to adore the quote, "Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away." I would skip around chanting this as I searched for every breathtaking moment, something awe-inspiring to ponder... Now I realize that life is also measured heavily on how we take the absolute desolate of moments and how we fill our lungs in that instant. I refuse to hold my breath, hyperventilate, or pant through those moments. They are just as miraculous as the moments that take our breath away due to beauty... It means we are still alive and have the chance to make the moment magical.
I'm thankful for the air I'm breathing today, and that modern science has kept our baby boy Gideon breathing when not long ago, he would not have had an option to draw in air for very long. This procedure is saving his life. So what if it alters his behavior for awhile? Perspective... Please pray that it all goes smoothly for Gideon James.
And, may I just say that a certain song has been playing in my head the entire time I typed this morning? (Can't stay serious for too long.) I will be singing this all day. Join me. We'll harmonize.
UPDATE: Gideon did beautifully today. We are digging into those steroids tonight. And, on a VERY HAPPY NOTE, Nurse Michelle gave us the last date of chemo treatments for Gideon: August 18, 2013. I have a countdown ticker in the upper righthand corner of this blog post.