The more I know

I am constantly confronted with how much I don't know.

As we go through this, I recognize great depths of my ignorance.  Some of my confusion appears to be deliberately induced by folks who don't want us to lose determination to do all we can.  Kind, caring people tilt their heads just so and almost agree with some uninformed assertion; seem to want to allow us to hold onto a misguided fragment of hope.  Lines of inquiry are deftly deferred to some other area that is more solid.  Facts dropped like boulders from on high are softened in their impact by a dispersal of authority.  

For sure, folks are telling me that this is a dicy time, a place of real uncertainty.

Can Chris get strong enough to be deemed able to do the trial?

I am asking Chris's Oncologist to give him something that makes him get up again, want to eat again, feel able to do this thing.  We are so close to a way forward.

Chris just feels weak and tired.  He eats less and less.  His vision is occluded.  He has trouble finding the right words.  His thinking is fuzzy.

I have asked to see the Oncologist on Monday morning, to look at labs, and decide on treatment that can bridge us until re-evaluation after the study opens again.  I am also pestering Chris to get up and move around as much as possible; to rebuild his strength.  It is a crappy line to tread between being a loving, supportive wife and being a drill instructor.

We are feeling our way forward. I think, like most people do with big illness, we are trying to find a  way to make a difference and trying to feel that progress is possible/happening.  I want to think we can beat the leukemia.