Awareness

Coming into a new school in the middle of the year is the pits.  So, doing it two years in a row, is more than the pits, it just plain stinks.  You have not been the least bit interested in going to school, because you know you will have to start mid year after everyone already knows their way around.  You are very aware of how that is because you just did it last year when we moved. This year we are in yet another new school and since you are homebound right now, you will have another mid year entry.  Having your teacher coming to our house has been an amazing help.  She keeps us connected with the kids in your class.  She passes messages back and forth, she shows you pictures of everyone, and lets you know when they have special events. 

We read her our story, and she suggested we come read it to the class.  We told her we would bring a craft too.  You were starting to get excited about meeting the kids. When we arrived they greeted us with a big sign that said Welcome Kaylee!  We told them a little bit about cancer and why you have to stay at home.  Then we read them our little fairy tale. 

 I'm starting to understand why people talk about cancer (or any illness or disability) awareness all the time. I can't say before now that you or any of your siblings were very aware of differences kids could have.  And it is easy for a cancer patient to feel so different in a class full of healthy, energetic kids who have heads full of hair.  It's funny how talking about it makes people less afraid and more understanding.  No one from your class needs to whisper about your missing hair, because they can ask you about it.  You don't mind.  You like your differences now, and they do too.  Just taking that little bit of time to give some explianation and tell a funny story about cancer and treatments made everyone more connected.  Before we knew it you went from the mysterious girl who's desk has been empty the whole year, to just one of the kids.

After some talking, we started our craft.  We brought surgical masks for everyone to decorate. We told them that you wear one when your immune system is low to keep from getting sick, and told them they could keep theirs to play doctor, or give it to someone they may know with cancer. 

 As we were leaving, a little girl ran up and asked if you wanted her mask.  Soon other kids were giving theirs to you, until nearly everyone gave you their mask.  It was so sweet and such a fun thing to bring home to remember the friends you have awaiting you in your class. 

A Princess

Who would've thought creating a princess could be therapy? Who would've thought writing about her journey could help us sort through our own feelings?  Who would've thought imagining our story in the hands of another little girl just learning about her cancer, could give us something to think beyond ourselves?  Who would've thought reading it to your school class could bridge a gap between kids?  Who would've thought her adventure could make us laugh instead of cry?  Who would've thought that princess overcoming her stuggles could give us confidence? 

Then again, who would've thought that a princess could be bald?

Kaylee, I have cherished the time we've spent writing a story for other little girls who may lose their hair. I have savored every moment of seeing your talents shine.  I love hearing your heartbreaks, and your successes. Who knows maybe someday a little girl sitting in a hospital room in the oncology unit will be holding our story in her hands, and viewing it's glossy illustrations and feeling a little more confident about the things that lie ahead of her.