The vinblastine (which we had tried last week when the other chemotherapy regimen failed) was kind of a bust. It was expected, but I’ll keep trying as long as Emmett feels well. Hope springs eternal.
Hope also springs eternal that a 3 year old might drop some Cheerios.
We’re feeling good enough to beg (CHECK OUT those big sad eyes! What a ham!) so that is a good thing. Man, I love that little guy.
Last week, a person who had just lost his dog in a terrible way asked me through his tears if his dog was with God. I answered truthfully: “If dogs don’t go to Heaven, I don’t want to go either.”
Yesterday, my daughter asked me why my eyes were leaky. I said, “I’m just sad because Emmett is sick.”
She thought about this. “Mulan got sick and then she died.”
“Yes, she did. I miss her.”
“But mommy, she went to Kevin, right?”
“You mean to heaven?”
I like that euphemism. This pet has gone to Kevin. Sounds kind of nice. Although I will say this: Kevin, you greedy bastard, don’t steal my guy just yet.