I love the night times around our house. Everything is quiet and peaceful.
I have a little routine that I do every night whether I want to or not. Yep you guessed it, it has to do with Abby's meds. Every night after I make the coffee, I douse Abby's meds with chocolate syrup and set it on the sink in the bathroom. I then go into Abby's room and scoop up my daughter in my arms with her head on my shoulder. She is ussually pretty out still but yet she somehow manages to give me a couple little pats on the back as she settles her head onto my shoulder.... I love those little pats. I really have no clue why she does it, but for me it is a nice little comfort, especially on the nights that I don't really want to give her her meds; tonight is one of those nights. Methotrexate Monday. That's what I like to call it, actually I don't know if I really "like" to call it anything but none-the-less I do. Monday's are the nights that I get to tell her in her sleepy state to open up for the "big chocolate medicine". She then gets a chaser of Benadryl and some water to finish it all off. I'm sure it would actually be a pretty good tasting little dessert... well if it didn't have the chemo in it.
Know what? Methotrexate is now on the acceptable list of what you can be on and still be able to give blood. Hey, I just thought you should know. Now you do.
Anyway, like I was saying, I like the nights. What struck me tonight, while engaging in this compulsory routine, was the fact that she has changed a lot in the 21 months that we've been doing it. For one thing she is a lot heavier than she was, up in the 40 pound range now and tall too! But as tall as she gets she still fits just as well on my shoulder. She is more compliant in this whole process than she used to be too. I still pick her up very carefully under the arm pits, careful not to pull on the "tubie" (Broviac) that has been gone now for almost a year. Ah, I'm so glad that that thing is nothing but a small scar, in flesh and memory, now. It was a lot of work to keep it clean and not pull on it while playing. I could go on and on..
But I won't. Instead I'll enjoy this peace and cherish those little pats, a really good part of a hard routine. Maybe when all of this is done I'll get her up anyway and take her to the bathroom... just for that little Abby pat on my back.
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