With all the great news buzzing in my ears…nothing could stop my emotions from being anything but thrilled and utterly ecstatic. It carried into my days and nights like a thick fog that would not seem to go away…and I did not want it to. I know John felt it too because he continued to try and eat this week even though chemotherapy tried to stop him from doing so. John really put it into prospective when we discussed his eating along with his nausea. “I think my body thinks the food I am putting into my stomach is the same as the poison I am allowing in with the chemo…so it is trying to get rid of it.” It made sense…that is why he still continued to throw up this week but this third round was different because he still tried. Trying is hard when you feel so beat down. He did make the attempt even though he threw up half of what he ate but still made it a point to strive for health.
This week also came with another victory. John got his feeding tube removed. Well, maybe removed is not the right way to describe the action. "Yanking out" might be the best way to describe the confiscation. We went into the oncologist’s office bound and determined to demand this to be taken out. Low and behold, he agreed and said he could do it right then and there rather than waiting for the endoscopy the following week. He left it completely up to John and said it was his decision. After getting a little light headed from the description the gastro doctor gave him of the removal process, John still decided to go for it. I had the view of his stomach as he sat back and the feeding tube was literally ripped out of his stomach. John screamed at the top of his lungs and winced with great pain. I have never heard John yell like that before in my life and it sent chills down my spine. From there, it took him a few hours to regain his balance to go home. He kept apologizing because he could not seem to get a hold of himself to stand up and walk out. No stitches were needed as the doctor said it would close itself within 24-48 hours…and he was right. We really have always been impressed with his gastro doctor because he has always shown great care with John and they always go back and forth about the Cowboys vs. the Giants (since this doc is from New York). That day was no different. Dr. Q, as we so lovingly call him, wheeled John down in the wheel chair and helped him into the car. On our way home, we talked about how you never see doctors do anything like he showed us that day and usually nurses are the ones who take the time do to such things.
Now, we are settling into another two week break. He is still feeling the effects of chemo these past few days but is better than the ones after round one and two. I think it was the good news we received last week that has really helped out. His spirits remain high and now the feeding tube is also one less thing we have to worry about. He is so awesome and amazingly strong. Now, the draining is the next victory and soon, the cancer will be gone. It has been a long battle…but it has been worth the fight. I do not question “why” anymore and nobody should. It will be a reminder of the depths of sadness this illness can really take hold of and I cannot allow myself to feel that way. We have been dealt these cards and somehow, someway, we will look back on these events and say, "Wow." Like I said…he is kind of awesome like that.