My sweet little boy

MOMMY:

Chemo today. As expected, Luis had to fast before receiving methotrexate in his spine at 11:00 a.m. The steroids make him incredibly hungry. In attempt to take his mind off of food, I asked him if he wanted me to cut his hair. This is the third day I asked him. The first day he said "No, not yet. Maybe another day". Yesterday, "Maybe later". Today, "Ok".

I got out my clippers, oiled them up and clipped his hair nice and short, about the shortest I've ever cut it. To my surprise, Daddy also wanted his hair cut. I did both hair cuts just in time for our ride to the procedure room.

After going for a 'bed ride' to the first floor, I was able to stand by Luis' side until they were about to begin the procedure. The doctor said, "The sedation will take place quickly". Less than 10 seconds after the nurse injected something into his port, the doctor said "And he's out". A short time later, Luis was wheeled into a recovery room where I waited even longer for him to wake up.

Eventually, the grogginess faded. He said "Mommy, I have to go pee". With the spinal tap, he was required to continue lying down for one hour. Using the toilet was out of the question. If we were in our hospital room, we would have used the portable urinal (basically a bottle). One of the two nurses left to look for one. The simplest option was to go in the diaper.  How do you tell a 4 year old who has been potty trained since he was 2 years old to pee in a diaper? Not easily.

I told Luis that we would return to our room in about 10 minutes, and if he couldn't wait, he could go in the diaper. He said, "No". As his need to go increased, we had this conversation again and again. Luis got louder and louder. Eventually, I couldn't get a word in. With a red face, bulging vein, and glossy eyes, he was screaming at the top of his lungs "Nooooooooooooooooooooo! Nooooooooooooooooooooo! Nooooooooooooooooooooo!"

The scream seemed angry and almost desperate. Like how could I even ask my big boy to use a diaper. I felt horrible. I told him I would go look for someone to help and I left the room. I lied. I had to get out of the room before I lost it. I hated that look in his face. A few minutes later the other nurse returned with a portable urinal but it was too late. Nature took care of itself. When I returned to the room, he was calm again like nothing happened. Just as quickly as he got angry, he became my sweet little boy again. Mood swings....it's really hard.