Lou and I are trying desperately to hold it together tonight. Trying to be patient - not to panic. Ty's speech is getting worse. When he tries to clap his hands or bring a cup to his mouth, he can't do it. His aim is off by a mile. With the cup he not only misses his mouth, he misses his entire face. Those are all tell-tale signs of problems within his Cerebellum, which is the part of the brain where his cancer has recently spread. It affects coordination. His doctor says that this it sounds like more than side effects from chemotherapy - that something neurological is going on.
What is making this even harder to accept is that I've been trying so hard to deny that the cancer even spread to that area. I was sure that if I was positive enough, if I believed with enough certainty and if I prayed enough, that the next scan would show that there is no sign of cancer in his Cerebellum after all. Obviously we are on our knees, begging. We want so desperately for this to work. Just tell me what I need to do and I'll do it.
What we are holding onto is the fact that tumor destruction can be just as devastating as tumor growth. Meaning, that if the chemo is blasting those tumors with enough force, it may cause bleeding and swelling in the brain that can cause just as many symptoms than if the tumors were to grow. I am certain that this is what Ty is experiencing because it came on so strong in just two days time (and, two days following the administration of some heavy duty toxins). I think I would have noticed a more gradual progression if his cancer was breaking through the treatment. It's just hitting us so hard because we were in denial that these Cerebellum tumors even existed (I know what the scans showed, but I didn't want to believe it). We saw Ty doing so well just days ago, it is just so friggin' hard to see him fall back down again like this. It's like there is a weight on my chest... my heart hurts. At least he handles it like a champ. Someone mentioned how in his video he always manages to keep a smile on his beautiful face. That is so true! Today he smiled and laughed at how funny it was when he was trying to clap! I had to hold myself together, trying not to break down and cry right then and there - his smiling face helped me, but he still saw the tears. Sometimes I just can't stop them.
We talked about it while we snuggled up in bed tonight. I told him to keep up his fighting spirit and he said "okay" so sweetly. I told him that I hate cancer and I need him to keep being so strong and he said "okay, I hate cancer, too." He also smiled and said "I wub you" as he drifted off to sleep. I wub you, too, Ty. I wub you so much. Big much. HUGE much. I love you the most. I love you infinity. You are my super hero and you can do this.
We are scheduled to return to the hospital for a check-up and bloodwork on Friday. His doctor mentioned getting an MRI, but I'm not sure I want to. If it is going to be unclear as to whether they are seeing tumor growth or destruction, then I don't even want to know. I've had enough ambiguity. The treatment is done and we have to wait out the course of this cycle anyway, so in my opinion I would rather get a more definitive scan three weeks from now (unless the doctors convince me otherwise). I just hope he improves before Friday so we can get through these days a little easier, and so Ty can enjoy himself again. He has been pretty much sleeping for the past 48 hours. This new chemo has really knocked him out. When he is not sleeping, he is feeling pretty bad in general, with the exception of a few 15 minute intervals where he just seems to snap out of it. Oh man, I wish you could see him during those times. You wouldn't believe what a sport he is. He is just the best kid in the world.
Goodnight everyone. Thank you so much for caring about our special boy. With love to you all, The Campbell's.