Friday 5th December

Breakfast is eaten heartily; porridge and a cup of tea, then it’s time to sleep. I think that is how my son will spend the rest of his day. He doesn’t like light, noise, talking or fuss.

There had been a suggestion that we could be going home today, but things changed so fast. Having woken up to go to the toilet, he suddenly became sick, and vomited on the floor, the sink, the bed, and himself.

The nurse came in to help clean up and change his bed. I took him in the shower room to wipe him down and wash his hands and feet.

As I was getting a towel, he slipped off the shower stool and fell on the floor. He lifted his head to look up at me, and then thumped back down again, scraping his nose. He wouldn’t get up for ages, and nurses and doctors came in to encourage him to move back to bed. He did eventually, and then fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

He was then on hourly observations, and had a high dose of anti-sickness drugs. Apparently the sickness and grogginess and tiredness is normal. He will be feeling wretched. The chemotherapy is very toxic, but it has to be, to kill the tumours.

We won’t be home today, is the result of this morning’s setback. Which is a good thing really; at least he can be monitored properly here.

He was sick again in the afternoon, soon after he had his antibiotics. He did not eat lunch, just wanting to lie quietly in the dark.

It is just so horrible to see him like this.

Later on in the evening, he is sick again; all over his hair, his body, everywhere.

He is cleaned up by two lovely nurses, given a bed bath, with his hair washed as well. The bed is made yet again, and he is hooked up to more saline and some iv pain relief. At 2am he has his steroid tablets, and manages to keep those down, thank goodness. He sleeps peacefully for the rest of the night.