Wednesday, 19 October 2011
Normal service resumed …
Yesterday was a much better day, and today has continued in the same vain. The intense redness has dissipated, the puffy eyes have gone, and Adam has resumed his normal inpatient duties. Namely, sitting in bed watching kids TV, interspersed with an occasional period of play on the Nintendo DS, or stroll down the corridor to the playroom; basically he’s waiting until it’s time to get discharged – which we are hoping will be Saturday. If he remains like this I see no reason why not (remind me again, what was I saying in my previous post?). Once the antibody is transferred to the portable infusion pump sometime Saturday afternoon the plan is to return to the rental house. Then we’ll come back for final blood work, and discharge letter, on Monday morning.I asked the doctor about the reaction that Adam had on Monday, presumably to the antibodies given the timing of it. His response was one that will resonate with most families going through this treatment; we’ve all heard it at various times.
“Yes. We have seen it before, but we don’t know why it happens.”
“Why this time round, and nothing during cycles one and two?”
“We cannot say.” As in we haven’t got a clue, rather than I know but I can’t tell you.
At the moment everything is pretty much the same as it was during the second cycle. Adam is eating well, he has no pain, no fever, no cough, no hives, no fluid retention or weight gain. His sleep is broken by the noise, and comings and goings on the ward, but in the big scheme of things it’s not important.
We are waiting to hear precisely what scans Adam will be having at the end of October / start of November before he starts cycle four, as I want the Marsden to repeat some of the additional investigations that we did over the summer, before we started. These re-staging results will determine whether or not we can complete the full five cycles of antibody treatment.
I also heard back from Department of Health today regarding NHS Surrey’s refusal to fund Adam’s treatment. They basically repeated everything they’ve already said, without offering any potential solution for taking things forward. They don’t want to get involved, except to offer their sympathies, and some pious nonsense about wanting to improve survival chances for every child with neuroblastoma. Each new family from the UK that we’ve met here has had their treatment funded, and that makes the situation all the more galling. So we carry on fighting until somebody is big enough to stand in front of me and tell me precisely why my son is less deserving of his country’s support.