"My body gets crampy if we're in the house too much." -Louie
The day began pleasantly enough albeit early. Louie felt tired but happy to be home. His appetite was high but tolerance low. He must have taken a single bite of 15 foods. I'm delighted with those single bites, it hints the will is there. We had a battle of the slinky's (plastic v. metal) down the stairs and walked outside to visit our caterpillars. Louie insisted we protect one under netting so we can watch it form it's chrysalis and release it ceremoniously. Midday Louie complained of something "stuck in his throat" and was uncomfortable the balance of the day. Based on emails and calls with his team, the assumption is he has a sore on his esophagus (common with high dose chemo treatments) and it's likely we'll head back tomorrow for fluids and a check. No fevers yet and hoping for a day trip. At 11pm Louie came in to say that Levi was in his room. He said, "I think this is him" (a round breathing lump) and sure enough, our kitty had buried himself between his sheets. A sweet ending to the day.
30 days occurred; we observed some days linger and others transpire swiftly, but they all pass. With close observation, they are all markedly and remarkably different. This is a slice, a mere glimpse into an arbitrary 30 Days of Cancer. Allowing you into our microcosm, my ambition was for enlightenment, a bit of immersion and ultimately improved capability of understanding the absolute details of this life. Our hope is that this is a wee Lego of a much bigger set, but as we live it, even the smallest brick can be profound. There is a yiddish saying, "If not for the light there would be no shadow." Louie is my light.