September 14, 2017
My heart touch beyond words. Fourteen year old son fasting for his sisters, midweek, because he cares. 💕
September 23, 2017
Everyone has a story.
Here is a part of ours:
Susie had a “port” (central nervous system line) surgically inserted underneath her skin for easy I.V. access for Chemotherapy yesterday.
It is hard to see your “baby” suffer from anesthesia’s after effects. (Your baby is still your baby, even at ten years old.)
Susannah had a reaction to medication put in her eye and trouble with nausea.
Good thing the Anesthesiologist is not a close friend. She kept saying, “I do not like that man! I do not like him!” (There was no reasoning with her that it was the medicines, not the man, that she struggled with.)
One side effect of a Chemo drug is hearing loss. Permanent hearing loss.
Susie was barely Post-Op when she was wheeled to Auditory for hearing screenings.
Fighting childhood cancer. Go GOLD!
Joe and I trail a small bald child pushing her own IV stand. Here is courage.
We are NOT winning the “war on cancer.”
Spread awareness.
This war will visit your family or loved ones.
Have hope. Learn more. Fight!
Who knew that having a child with (brain) cancer would mean getting to know so many wonderful people: Oncologists, surgeons, Anesthesiologist, nurses, techs, nutritionists, case workers, social workers, care coordinators, specialists.
The Ronald McDonald House rooms located inside the hospital are a haven for families and parents.
Here is a place to get a warm meal, a snack, a place to charge phones, shower, nap, use a computer, entertain other children, or take a brief break from discouraging reality to have a good cry (red nose results) and then put on a “good face” before returning to your in pain/nauseated daughter’s room.
Joe and I slipped out to get a quick dinner last night. Taco Salad.
“Togetherness Heals.” ❤️
So many parents and families fighting through their own childs’ battles.
Warriors.
Love is here.
My heart is so full.
A mother is on a cell phone, sobbing.
I wonder if I should stop to hear her story or offer a hug. Feels like an intrusion into her own personal grief.
I say a silent prayer for her instead and hurry on.
I leave into the dark, cold night and drive home to children with the assistance of a “medicine soda” and Excedrine.
Long day. Very short night.
Hot then cold. Shaky and quaky.
Children at home miss sister Susie.
Eva cries. Liam just puts on a “neck beard” (a rice bag) to make her stop and laugh.
Sister Eva worked in her room this morning tidying up for Susie to (hopefully) come home!
“Mom, Liam helped too. He helped with the lights, and that was the tricky part.”
Someone said something silly to make Liam smile. Eva slightly disgusted.
Susie went into anaphylaxis with IV antibiotics and so Benedryl made her sleepy. Breathing back to normal, thankfully.
Just set us back a few hours, but we should be home by tonight.
For lunch we headed to the Ronald McDonald House Rooms.
Earthly Angela from a Relief Society brought in hoagie fixings, salads, chips, and pink lemonade.
Favorite quote was from Liam:
“Mom, look. Look! An ice cream truck.”
“Yes, that looks very colorful. Like an ice cream truck. It’s a city bus.”
And Susie is HOME!
September 27, 2017
Saturday evening at Primary Children’s, discharge papers finally charged and Nurse Dave just must pull out the needle (deport) and we can leave.
Susie motions me down to her level. She pulls my ear closer.
“(Mom) I don’t want to do this!”
“I don’t want to do this either, Baby.”
My voice breaks. We have a silent cry together.
Childhood Brain Cancer sucks.
September 29, 2017
Cute new hairdo for Chemo clinic easy care.
(Susie is not enthusiastic about the poofiness of this cut.)
September 29, 2017
Susannah’s First Chemo Clinic Visit done.
(Second dose of Chemo–first round in hospital last week).
We are touched by the love, care, and service that goes in to serving these beautiful bald children (and their parents/family) from so many unseen angels.
Cancer. A battle to wage, a war to win, hearts softened, Heaven petitioned.
Susie was cold and so she was brought a quilt. Nurses encouraged her to take it home (because washing it at the hospital would ruin all the work that went into this work of art).
