Three Weeks till Christmas, Two weeks in the hospital, One house flood,and a partridge in a pear tree.

I keep thinking that life will get less eventful, or maybe we've cashed in all the trials one family is allowed for a lifetime, but that, unfortunatly is not the way it works. December was a good reminder of that.  After an easy going November, we expected your next chemo to go pretty easily.  But 10 days after your first dose, the color began to fade from your cheeks. Your energy level dropped to the floor. Your temperature started creeping up.  You really didn't want to go to the hospital, and I was really hoping to not have to take you, but after a day of a temp of 99 I could tell this was going to get worse before it got better. So we packed you up and went to the hospital.  After a night (and a blood and platelet transfusion) you were a new woman.  You were bouncing off the walls and ready to go home. But nothing is that simple. Once you are checked in the doctors don't want to let you go until your blood counts start showing signs of rebounding.  So every morning I would try to work my magic to convince the doctors that I would take good care of you at home, get your counts every morning if they wanted, manage IV antibiotics...whatever it took to get you home.  But those blood counts of yours did not want to go anywhere. And my convincing and your wheelchair races around the unit were not enough to get the okay to check out.  After nearly a week, with an ANC of 0 and yet the energy level of a monkey I couldn't think of anything else but getting you out of there. . . .

 

 Until your dad called me.  After a long day of everyone gone to work and the hospital and sitters, Dad walked three tired kids right into a sloshy wet mess of a house. 

It. Had. Flooded.

  I got you a sitter and came home to wade through the house. There comes a point where there are no words.And all you can do is laugh or cry in unbelief. At this particular moment, I decided a good laugh was in order.  We put the girls in their swimsuits and started moving our stuff to higher ground until the restoration company showed up and started ripping out carpet and setting up dryers. So, after loading heavy baskets of sopping clothes and linens and our tired, wet kids into friends cars to have dry place for the night, Dad and I headed back to the hospital and had an unexpected slumber party with you. As we all snuggled in warm dry beds, I have never felt so thankful that you were in the hospital. 

I instantaniously had a complete attitude reversal. I wanted nothing more than to keep you in the hospital until I had my nice germ and dust free home to take you back to.  So the family checked into a hotel, picked up Uncle Kurt for the airport for his "relaxing" christmas vacation (Like anyone who comes to our house gets a vacation...bwahaha!) and began the craziest week I have ever experienced.  Three kids in a hotel, one in school 15 miles away, one in a hospital, one guest that you wish you could pamper and spend quality time with, all just a few days before christmas. . . it is making me stress just writing about it. 

But miracles never cease.  And those workers worked their hearts out knowing you had to come home to a finished house.  They worked late hours and on the weekend.  And they had that house ready to move back into the saturday night before Christmas.  And just when it was looking like you may spend christmas in the hospital, your counts showed just enough of a glimmer of rebound that they let you escape. Friends we know and some whom we haven't seen in years, sent some of the most inspired and timely packages and gifts that warmed our hearts and reminded us what this season is about. All the time I missed baking yummy christmas goodies, was made up by plates of desserts brought right to our doorstep. All the time I missed doing last minute shopping was made up by secret Santas and thoughtful friends. Kurts timely arrival, whilst maybe not the event-filled week we had planned, was just what we needed to balance all we had going on, and he stayed with you at the hospital for that whole week, hardly leaving your side. In the end, it will go down as one of the loveliest and certainly the most memorable Christmases on record.

When it comes down to it Kaylee, who really wants an eventless life?  It is all the ups and downs that remind us what is important.  It is knowing hardships that help us appreciate ease.   Nothing could be sweeter than having our family all TOGETHER-happy, feeling good, and completely exhausted. 

 

Running, Cancer and Life

Okay Kaylee, I'm sure you know, I'm no marathon runner.  Not even close.  To tell you the truth, though I've done a lot of running in my life, I've always hated it.  The minute my joints and muscles scream at me from the first few steps before I even get into a rhythm, my will is shot, and I talk myself out of it, wondering why I am bothering to make myself miserable.  This usually leads to giving up in some form.  Whether it's giving up literally {I'm gonna run for 5 mins...eh, 60 more seconds is good enough} or Whether it's mentally {this is useless Kim, you don't need this pain in your life}.  I'm my own worst enemy when it comes to running. I resist it every moment I am putting one foot in front of the other.  I'm sure if you were to ask Mr. Shipp, my cross country coach, he would say I totally wasted my ability, because I simply didn't try.

Last year I knew i needed an outlet, and going to the gym wasn't an option, but I thought, I could take 30 mins three times a week and get in a few miles on the road.  So I strapped on my 10 year old running shoes and hit the pavement. Moments later came my usual mental banter.  But this time, like those two little people sitting on your shoulder shouting in the good and bad, I had retaliation.  I had you.  You were my good little angel sitting on my shoulder reminding me of all the things I'm always telling you: You need this to feel better, Its only for a few minutes and then you are done, you can do anything.

And within moments my mental self destruction stopped.  I had no ammo to shoot back, no excuses.  If Kaylee can do grueling rounds of chemo, surgery and radiation two times over,  I can run a few miles without complaint.  And giving all that mental static up, I've learned some pretty amazing things about myself that I wish I'd known way back in high school when I felt so defeated by track and cross country.  So here is a list, I will aptly entitle like all those 1980's posters hanging around my elementary school of the sort:

 

All I Need to Know About Running I Learned From My 8 Year Old Cancer Survivor

 

The first part is the hardest.  In fact, it's terrible.  Your body doesn't want to do it.  But if you let yourself get past the first bit of pain, your body will adjust, and things will feel smoother.

 

Little adjustments make the biggest difference.  Whether it's a change in attitude or lengthening that stride just an inch more, the result can be a personal record.

 

Always looking down makes time stand still.  But if you take time to look up, you'll see you have a path laid out and sometimes even some good scenery for a distraction. Keeping your head up makes getting to the end not feel so daunting.

 

Getting into a groove can make it seem almost normal.  If you just tell yourself, "I'm doing this" then a few miles in your running begins to feel like a way of life.

 

If you are prepared, you can handle the storms that comes your way.

 

Having a friend who is doing the same thing, always makes things more bearable.

 

If you have the ability and enough energy to get on your own two feet, don't waste time sitting around. Life is too short for that.

 

When you've gone on for a while and just want to stop, actually stopping usually feels worse than pressing on, so you may as well keep going.

 

The body can do amazing things. Believe in that, even if your mind doesn't want you to.

 

Sometimes you get so far out into the middle of things, you feel like you may not be able to make it back home.  You can.  But there's no shame in calling for help.

 

If it feels like its getting too dark, don't worry the street lamps always click on.

 

It's easy to want to give up in the home stretch and feel like you've done enough, but if you push a little, though your body may feel too weak and scream in resistance, you'll finish strong.

 

There are no losers. You got up, you got out there, and you put up a fight. It makes you a winner, no question.

 

 

 

Kaylee, you make me realizes there are so many excuses I have allowed myself to have, that just aren't valid. You've been the best coach without even realizing it, because you lead by example. Sure, I'm no marathon runner, not even close.  But the point is, I could be.  I will never sell my abilities or capabilities short again.  You prove to me time and time again, that with a strong mind, and a faithful heart everyone can achieve greatness.