For now, the radiation is taking its toll - Rico is tired most of the time.
Punk went with him on Friday - and had a similar reaction to the rest of us as he walked into the actual radiation room. It didn't help, when the radiologists who've been working with Rico since day one, said they'd be leaving him in someone else's care. Apparently, even they are only allowed to be there for two weeks at a time.
His oxygen rate is less than 90% at night. He may need to start on oxygen for a while as well.
We also learned that surgery could be scheduled anywhere from 3-12 weeks after radiation treatment is complete. We know that waiting will be hard for Rico - for all of us. You can call this family a lot of things - adventurous, crazy, loud, stubborn, but "patient" we ain't - not a one of us - especially not the one of us that needs it most.
So for now, we are doing a lot of waiting, a lot of speculating, and in-between, stuff like this:
• Easter. Rainy, but lovely. We managed to get through most of the church service, an indoor egg hunt, a little Dance Dance Revolution in the kitchen, an attempt at a nice photo of the kids and dinner at Uncle Ken's.
• Yoda punking Punk with toothpaste filled Oreos on April Fool's Day. He ate the entire first one just to spite her, but when he absentmindedly picked up the second one an hour later - she got her reward.
• And in an effort to make money for prom, Punk has been taking any job he can get. Two of the better ones included dressing up as characters for birthday parties. He doesn't get his own Batmobile, but it beats weeding the flower beds. Plus, we usually get to stop for dinner afterward - so everyone wins.
• Yoda's come down with some sort of sinus, eye, face infection which means antibiotics and eyedrops. She consoles herself after each dose by badgering one of us to play Beanboozled jellybeans with her. The game comes with a little spinner that tells you which color jelly bean you have to eat. It might be a lovely flavor like peach - but it might be something hideous like vomit. I cannot fathom whose job it is to formulate "skunk-spray flavor" - but it's horribly accurate. Punk is a willing participant, I am less-willing, Kooka needs to be dragged by her toenails, and Rico flat out refuses (but we'll give him this one for the time being). None of us are sure why this cheers her up, but it seems to. Maybe the taste of moldy cheese is just slightly better than amoxicillan.