Logan, Discharged

Logan was discharged from the hospital on Friday, April 8 and arrived at Mimi Donna and Big John’s house just before dinner. He did not stop moving and eating until he finally wound down watching 101 Dalmatians. (A.J. believed that in the last couple of weeks he has seen some version of 101 Dalmatians about 101 times…)

This marks the END of Logan’s inpatient Leukemia treatment.

204 Days

Logan was first admitted on Thursday, September 17, and was discharged after 204 days of both inpatient and outpatient treatment. I found the start date by going back to my first blog post about this, “Logan has Leukemia.” And as I read it I started crying, again. Such a long and difficult road for this little family. By Amanda’s count, 157 nights were spent in the hospital. Logan entered the treatment protocol as a crawling 9-month-old, and left as a walking 16-month-old. Logan as toddler has entirely coincided with Logan as cancer patient.

It has been a surreal experience, not yet complete. Logan is still immunocompromised as his bone marrow recovers from the chemo. Those who are involved in his care continue to socially distance and wear masks when out in the world. Logan receives meds to combat infection. And he has an appointment on Wednesday for a blood draw to check everything, including that those infection-fighting meds are at a therapeutic level. But most importantly his blood will be checked to confirm that he remains in remission. Blood draws will be a part of his life for some time. Please pray for a continuation of remission.

Freedom

That said, Logan can go outside as long as dirt and grass and windy days are avoided. And…he has no tubes. No feeding tube. He is back to eating like a champ, albeit a slimmer version than before treatment began. No central line. Originally inserted into Logan’s chest in September, it was surgically removed Friday. No central line means that blood draws, including on Wednesday, will be a needle stick.

Yesterday, Day 1 of Logan’s release, was a kinda normal late afternoon and evening with a toddler. Food thrown on the floor. Shelves emptied. Toys scattered. Let me tell you, normal never felt so good.