Wyatt’s chest tube was put in in his room on Sunday, our first full day at the hospital. A red haired, fireball of a surgeon would do the procedure. She was confident and I felt good about her. She assured me that she would get it done and get him feeling better.
The procedure was done and Wyatt was put on pain meds. I can’t imagine the discomfort of having a chest tube. But Wyatt was a trooper.
We spent the day talking to doctors, worrying, keeping Wyatt comfortable, reassuring him and keeping him occupied with Star Wars movies.
Then the worst news. Today they would tell us that it was likely that Wyatt had Leukemia. We would be introduced to the Oncology doctor. And eventually the Oncology Team.
The Oncology doctor had a fairly thick Asian accent. He came into the room to see Wyatt, said a few words to him, and then asked us to step outside. I bent down to kiss Wyatt and told him we would be just outside the door talking to the doctor. Wyatt looks at me and says, “What’s with the Japanese guy???” I was a bit embarrassed, but relieved to see that he still had a little spunk. Wyatt was never one to hold back what he was thinking.
The Oncology doctor told us he was fairly certain Wyatt had Leukemia though they were not sure what form. He told us that most childhood Leukemia is curable and I held onto that thought with every ounce of my being. Tomorrow Wyatt would have a bone marrow biopsy, a spinal tap, a pic line put in and his first dose of chemotherapy. Holy crap…