After Connor's chemo stay on February 15th we enjoyed some nice sunshine on the weekend. Connor wanted to go fishing, so we took him to the Trojan Park lake. It was a little windy, unfortunately as fast as he could cast his line out, the wind was pushing it towards us. Needless to say, except for some of those infamous "weed" fish, we didn't catch anything.
Connor was thrilled with casting and reeling in, next time we will just go "Casting and reeling" instead of fishing. On the way home we stopped at our favorite fishing hole "Safeway" and picked up some fish for dinner. 
The following weekend we were back to the lake, this time to feed the ducks. They are well fed ducks, and geese.Unfortunately Connor's blood counts started dipping pretty low, pretty fast this round. On March 3rd I noticed he was developing a blood blister in his mouth, which is a symptom of low platelets that we needed to watch out for. The following day we spent in the hospital getting a platelet and blood transfusion. Connor rolled with it as always.
March 4th was our 10 year anniversary, and unlike 10 years ago (where it rained and rained) the sky was absolutely amazing on that day. The last 10 years have flown by. Although we spent our anniversary at the hospital, all that mattered was that we were together (that we were all together).
Today, Connor's platelet count was up a little bit, but his total ANC took another dive to 30 this week (his lowest count yet). Needless to say no trips to malls, or the Cheese Palace for us.
Connor is adamant that he doesn't get band aids. He can't stand taking them off. Today it took a little longer for him to clot, the nurse said "Are you sure you don't want a band-aid?" Connor's response, "Just let me bleed!"
Something that continues to amaze me:
Random acts of kindness by complete strangers
(a stranger gave Connor a free box to fill up at the Lego store).
What doesn't bother me as much anymore:
The stares from strangers. You can tell through their eyes that they are compassionate.
What I've learned to accept:
That my child has cancer, cancer doesn't have him.
