Tomorrow, tomorrow.

This week, I’ve power washed the whole outside of the house (big new fan of power washing), cleaned, picked up all the sticks and leaves in the yard (by hand), baked two loaves of bread, been back and fourth to the hospital three times — and it’s only Wednesday.

I’m a nervous wreck.

Tomorrow is a big day. A day that I have been counting down to since Laila was diagnosed with cancer.

Tomorrow is her six-week scan. The results of which will determine if she can have surgery on Monday.

Getting the tumor out of her is literally all I can think about.

Laila has not been sleeping. It’s not like she is just “restless” — she is inconsolable — screaming (seemingly in pain), which is a lot for any baby, but especially for a baby that never cries or complains about anything. It’s gut wrenching. I even tried sleeping in the crib with her, which was a fail, because nothing is comforting at this point.

Her sleep had improved for a while, we started giving her CBD (controversial but blessed by her oncologist) and it was working wonders. She was back to sleeping like a healthy baby.

Last week that changed again.

In addition to not sleeping, her belly was super duper enlarged and we knew it had to be related.

So, Monday we sent photos to the doctor and they asked us to bring her in for x-rays.

All of the bloating is still bad gas and constipation caused from her chemo medication called “Vincristine”. Also, the tumor is pushing against her bowels. To make matters worse, she is also getting four teeth at the same time.

Total hot mess.

This morning we went back to the hospital for her weekly chemo session but because she is still constipated, they decided to cancel her chemo.

The “vinc”, as they call it, would only further constipate her, and since today’s dose would not have any bearing on whether or not surgery On Monday is possible, they sent us home with a shopping bag full of laxatives....

Only to return tomorrow at 7am for her all important, all I can focus on, scan.

They anticipate that we will find out whether or not surgery is happening via phone call by tomorrow evening (after the surgeons go through the images with a fine tooth comb).

Waiting for that call tomorrow is going to be torture.

If they say that surgery can’t happen I’ve been warned that it’s only because the surgery would still be “too risky.” And I trust them and want what is best for her.

But, I want this thing out of her.

If they defer surgery, we would have to wait another six-weeks before they could try again.

And as much as I have fallen in love with power washing, there is truly nothing left to wash.

Please send all the positive vibes for tomorrow. We need them.

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Below is a photo of her initial scan. That entire round ball, circled in red, is her giant tumor. When the surgeon originally showed us this scan six weeks ago, I blacked out. Yesterday I asked to see it again, and was reminded why I don’t remember seeing it the first time. It’s basically her entire body and I want that fucker out of her.