Late Last Night
I have sat around for hours, refusing to pack anything else for what will obviously be yet another fruitless trip to the hospital.
I have done one load of laundry, just guessing that it will most likely be enough for a "hospital stay."
I have made a list of things to be packed...and have only packed half of them.
Mason has stuffed everything he could possibly want into his backpack. He's prepared for hospital pancakes in the morning.
I have read to Mason, and sung him lullabies (even Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, which has been a rarity ever since I bought him a book that basically murders the song).
We have said our prayers.
Mason has prayed for his counts to be high.
We leave in a hurry, barely gathering the things we need before hopping in the car.
We arrive at clinic, and I immediately start counting down until we can get back in the car and head back home.
Mason is already talking about having pancakes in the hospital.
Fast forward an hour, and the Nurse is coming in with the results from Mason's blood work, saying: "have you seen them yet?"
I mentally sigh, because I don't need to see them; I already know they're getting lower every day.
The Nurse hands me the paper.
I look...then look again.
"His ANC is 1,400?!" I say. This is extremely surprising.
It only needs to be at 1,000 to be admitted, and it has been much lower than that for weeks.
Mason says: "Are my counts high?"
"Yes!" I say.
"Yes!!" Mason says.
He jumps up and down.
"Heavenly Father made my counts high! I prayed for him to do it, and he did!"
Lots of smiling.
"Heavenly Father did this. Mommy, that was so nice of him!"
I am sufficiently humbled.
...I am also without a good book because I figured I'd be coming straight back home...which is totally what I get for my attitude for the past week. I'm just so, SO grateful that Mason can now continue his treatments.
O, the faith of this little boy....