Planning

We planned for Adrienne to come to help out during a treatment week.  We planned to have her fly in on a day with nothing scheduled.

Planning is highly overrated.

I learned that a long time ago, but for some reason, I find myself always making a plan.  If my life turned out the way I had planned, it would have been a very sad life.  It's really a good thing the Lord knows better than me.  If life went the way I had planned, I wouldn't have been at BYU-Idaho, I would have been at BYU Provo, and then I wouldn't have met your daddy.  If life went the way I planned it, I would have not moved so often, and then we would have missed out on meeting some of our very dearest friends. If life were the way I planned, we would be living in Arkansas, but then we would be far away from the award winning doctors we currently have at our disposal. 

Planning is had to do with cancer too.  So many things change from day to day.  Some days I couldn't plan more than an hour ahead of time, because I wasn't sure how you would feel, or if we would need to see a doctor.  It became frustrating to not know what to expect from one day to the next.  It was hard not to know if you could go to a sleepover, or if dinner would sound good to you when it came time. 

It would only be fitting that when I planned to have my sister fly in to help with a treatment, you didn't have a treatment afterall.  Instead, your counts were low, and treatments got off the schedule.  Instead you needed a blood transfusion again, and although we felt used to the routine this time, it just wasn't as smooth as last time.  You felt uncomfortable.  Your temperature was slowly creeping up, and it mad the nurses a little nervous.  It just wasn't as magically healing as it was last time.  Time was ticking to the end of your transfusion, and Adge's flight was approaching Tulsa.  I sat next to you, while Adrienne patiently waited 7 months pregnant in the Airport lounge while I arrived over an hour late to pick her up. 

She breathed new life into our stale house.  She is creative just like you. You were like two peas in a pod learning new crafts together like oragami, and cartoon drawings.  She cleaned bathrooms, and made meals.  She ushered in a turning point in your treatments. 

I didn't know it then, but I can look back at the time she was here as the end of the hardest three months of my life.  By the time she left you were over a hump.  The more time lapsed from the end of your weekly treatments and radiation the more energy and higher blood counts you had.  Unexpected trips to the hospital became less of a probability. 

I planned for help for a treatment week, but the Lord knew better.  He saw a weak and weary mother that needed a sister's shoulder to cry on.  He saw a tired girl who needed her Aunt to come spice up her mundane days.  He saw healthy kids that needed some outings, and a house that needed some attention.  He's a much better planner than I am.  I am glad that things don't always turn out the way I plan.

Lazy Summer Days

It's fitting that I found this random picture on my camera.  I don't know who took it, but these are the guys that we lived vicariously through all summer long. A record of your treatment wouldn't be the same without them in it.  It's funny when you are sick, all the things you aren't suppose to do, suddenly become the percription for getting better.  Eat as many milkshakes as you can, lay around and watch TV, stay inside. . .it was our way of life this summer.  Lazy summer's arent too bad in the sweltering heat.  It made the time slow down a little bit.  Every mother loves to see the clock slow down, even if it's just for a little bit. 

Lauren

Aunt Julie told me while you were still in the hospital that your cousin Lauren she really wanted to come visit. Do you know her mom sent her on a plane to come see us straight after her dance camp.  There isn't another person like Lauren.  She brought you and Jackson and Brookie and Reese books, games, clothes and toys.  Her brothers and sisters all sent things along with her too.  She perked up our mondane July.  She made it fun and exciting to be indoors.  She baked cookies, and rolls.  She helped us refinish Jacksons dresser.

  She brought High School Musical 1, 2 and 3. She showed you the cool apps on her ipod, and you showed her the cool ones on yours.  She taught you to swing dance, and even part of the Nutcracker Ballet. 

I don't think you guys have ever had more fun stuck in the house then with Lauren around.  She had too leave too soon for all of us.  We knew she had to go, she had the start of her senior year to get back to, but we sent her off, with tears in our eyes, so grateful for our own special time with her all to ourselves. 

Ms. Diane

We don't always have to go to Little Rock now that radiation is done.  For the final weeks of your weekly treatments you were able to go to your pediatrician's office.  That is where we met Ms. Diane.  She is a treatment nurse that can take your blood and administer your weekly vincristine.  Ms. Diane is nice, and she's the best at needle sticks.  It never hurts.  You say, she is your favorite. 

We get to go in the back door of the doctors office like we own the place.  No one says, "what are you doing back here?"  They all smile and say things like "what a cute scarf you have". We are in and out in minutes and don't even need an appointment.  This kind of treatment can spoil us! 

When you are done with your chemo she lets you choose a big closet full of rolls and rolls of stickers.  She also give you and your siblings a bead each visit to help you keep track of your treatments there.  She knows people that can make a necklace, a bracelet, and more with all their beads.  We like Ms Diane, but we are glad we won't even have enough to make a bracelet.  We like being able to be at home more and Jackson, Brookie, and Reese like have you around more too.  Even though you are a little sleepier than you used to be, there is always enough energy to play pretend and always enough energy to watch Phineas and Ferb. I think with our 100+ degree summer, we sure picked a good one to stay inside a little more than usual.

Baldies

bye, bye, bye!

Darn those drugs for taking your choices from you.  It is hard when you want to keep something that doesn't want to stay.  And that hair left one by one, until the moment came where there was no covering it up, or fooling anyone...even ourselves.  You and I sat in front of the mirror together.  You looked at what was left.  It had been a long time since you had really seen what was in the mirror, and it really hit you hard.  You couldn't believe all that had happened since the last time you really looked at your hair.  There was a lot of scalp showing and not much hair left, in the front anyways.  The back was still holding on strong.  But the back could've been bald for all you cared, you wanted something to frame your face, and play with in front of the mirror, and it was dissapearing even before our eyes. 

You wailed, and sobbed and bawled.  It is maybe the hardest i have ever seen you cry, and yet it was the most mature moment I have ever seen you have.  You stared at your reflection through the sobs and the crys and said "I know what I need to do, but it is just so hard."

Twenty minutes later we emerged from the bathroom, daddy called a few friends, and you were officially past tears.  We did our mourning for your lost hair, and you were ready to move forward.  I have not seen you shed one tear since for that hair.  You are a braver woman than I.  You wanted some support from a few friends, and at nine o'clock on a sunday night, we called over Hannah and her dad, and the Pena's and got ready for a little hair cutting party! Eli Pena wanted to shave his head with you, and it was offically an event!  I was ready to get this hair and the sadness it brought, gone.   It hit daddy harder than he thought it would. He watched teary eyed and humble from the sidelines as his sweet baby girl did the bravest thing.

Brookie was jumping up and down wanting to be next.  And Jackson, well that sweet brother of yours stood right by your side, ready for the two of you to be twinners.  He interjected with comments I didn't know could come from a 5 year old boy.  "Oh, mom, look you can see her eyes better!  They are so pretty!"  and "Kaylee, wow, you look really pretty bald"or "Mom, don't you think Kaylee is so pretty?"  Bless that kid.  You will never find a better friend than him. 

You were excited for feel that smooth scalp that had been hiding under your hair for years.  You looked beautiful and strong.  I will treasure this night in my heart always.

 Just remember you'll have to start letting me teach you some things too, because I seem to be learning some of lifes most poignant lessons from you.

Blood

Entering the hospital is usually not an exciting occasion.  So far, we were on a pretty good track of feeling worse at check out time than when we checked in.  It was not becoming your favorite place.  So when we got a phone call from the treatment nurse a few weeks after your "red devil" chemo treatment saying, "I have some bad news"  then well at that point it didn't matter what she was going to say next, I was in tears.  I'm not very good at going with the flow these days, and anything out of the realm of our new normal throws me a little out of wack, even though I try to hide it.  She said your ANC (infection fighting ability) was low, very low, and your red blood cells were too.  You needed a transfusion to get those red blood cells back up. 

I called Anne who told me all the reasons I shouldn't worry. She told me how you would get your energy back. She told me how your skin would get that lovely pink color again.  She let us know how great the hospital here is, and even that she would visit us when her nursing shift ended. 

Oh how we love Anne!

Since I was no longer worried, and we could do your transfusion locally, and we didn't need to stay overnight, we decided this could be a nice evening together. We packed some fun things for an evening of blood and togetherness.  The nurses were so nice, and the hospital was quiet.  Despite my fears of new people accessing your port and drawing your blood, they did great.  Ann came to your room after her shift at the hospital to hang out and get our requests for dinner. She told us not to worry about anything but the food, and went out in search of something that sounded good to us!  

She returned to give us Panera and Andy's frozen custard, just as I was poking at a cold, microwave pizza that sat before us.  We got your blood slowly but surely over a 4 hour period.

Here is a video we took before your transfusion so we could look back and say, man, that really helped!

Boy oh boy Anne was right! Your energy level went up.  You were chatty again, and feeling and looking great.  You couldn't stop staring at your palms and all the pretty pink color they had once again.

  It is the first time we have left a hospital feeling better than we came in.  So, yeah, I think a transfusion is a very good thing.