Oscar and "The Big Daddy Machine" (stem cell harvest number 3!)



Back from theatre, Easter Egg from nurses!

So we started on that treatment plan I outlined in last post, and had our stem cell harvest on Thursday.  Oscar had the horrible tube inserted in the femural vein in his groin once again, which is definitely the worst part and extremely uncomfortable for him during the 36 hours it was in.  This happened on Wednesday, and the anaesthetist responsible for the procedure was a lovely guy.  He said to me several times before I took Oscar into theatre - "don't worry, we'll take good care of him", and it suddenly dawned on me that although I am still always anxious to see Oscar after these procedures in theatre, I have become so accustomed to handing him over that I just do it now.  No big list of questions, no looking for reassurance, and normally no tears.  The bit I hate the most (and his daddy too), is handing over his floppy little body after the anaesthetic kicks in on our knee, and it is a lonely walk going back to the ward without him to wait for the phonecall from recovery. 



Big Daddy Machine (with eyes on front)

Anyway, the harvest on Thursday was another huge success!  Our aim this time was 1.8m (cells?) to bring us to a total of 6m which will be given back to Oscar in 2 stages.  However Oscar yielded 3.07m!  I am running out of creative ways to say what a star he is, and how proud we are, but you all know.  We had the "Big Daddy Machine", the predecessor of "The Big Machine".  Oscar gave it eyes also.  And once again thanks to the lovely ladies who accompany the machine, and help make the collection procedure such a success.  Oscar has promised to pay them a visit at the home of the Big Machine (City Hospital) once we get through all this! 

We had a lovely quiet Easter weekend, we kept forgetting that it was Easter as we had our celebrations 2 weeks ago!  The kids had even more Easter eggs to open and enjoy - Granny Susie had won a huge egg in a competition, and boy did they enjoy getting stuck into it together!  So sweet to see them help each other undo the wrapper and take turns at having a bite.  They are so close, and even though they disagree sometimes they really look out for each other.  I treasure every moment I see them together like this, but can't help feeling sad and worried about what lies ahead, when Oscar won't be allowed to see Izzie for weeks (perhaps months) due to the intensity of this treatment.  Kids harbour bugs, so Izzie is just too much of a threat to him because his immune system will be non-existent.  And Oscar will be a threat to Izzie once his nuclear radiotherapy (MIBG) starts in London due to his high radiation levels.  My biggest wish in the world is to see the day when they can play happily together, and at bathtime, without Oscar feeling unwell, without worrying about Izzie pulling his tubes, and with Oscar being able to run around and be a carefree child once again.  I want to see him be able to be her big brother, at the moment he is vulnerable and weak and it's just not how things should be.

Oscar was in hospital on Sunday and Monday for 30 minutes of chemotherapy, and we were admitted on Tuesday for more of the same.  I am writing this at home, as we unexpectedly got "released" from hospital for the evening, to go back in tomorrow (Thursday) morning for more intense chemo to continue.  Not sure how long this stay will be, would be great to be home at the weekend once again! 

The countdown is on for London, and that's when this treatment really moves up a gear.  Although, when I said in hospital about having a few tough months ahead, the nurses agreed but reminded me about how far we have come already!  It is 6 months (yesterday), since our whole world turned upside down, and we were told in A&E that they suspected Oscar had leukemia.  Incredible, and frightening, to think we are almost half way through the treatment plan for the diagnosis we received which turned out to be much worse than our initial shock at the thought of leukemia.  When we looked at the pages and pages of treatment information which was outlined for Oscar it just seemed impossible to get through it.  Loads of people say lots of lovely things about how we are coping, but it's all down to Oscar.  Thanks to him, and his strength and courage, we are getting there one day at a time!