I remember having complete peace the morning the port was put in. That unavoidable day had arrived but the anguish we felt in those previous weeks had given way to acceptance. No necessarily acceptance of the diagnosis but the acceptance that God was in control. The port has actually been a good thing. See the weeks earlier had been saturated with noise. Everything thrown at us was just white noise that we couldn’t process. Everything was too hard to contemplate and completely objectionable. With the port, in her chest and under her skin, she receives all of her medication, chemo and fluids. We put medicated numbing cream on her skin over the port before any treatments so she hardly feels anything when the small needle is inserted. She had her first round of chemo the day after her surgery for the port placement.
In the few weeks that she’s started chemotherapy we’ve definitely had good days and bad ones. Out of her 42 week treatment plan we’ve completed 5 weeks. Greg usually takes her once a week, on Thursdays, up to Spokane (about 45 minute drive) to get her small dose of chemo. She get’s her weight, height and blood work. Before the chemotherapy can start the blood work has to show that her counts are high enough for this weeks dose. So it’s about a 4-5 hour day. Sometimes there are additional blood tests that are required during the week and we can go to a local hospital right down the street. She’s been to the ER two times so far. Once was for a slight fever and the other for not being able to keep any food or water down for several days. You see, if Lane has a fever of 100.4 or over she has to go into the hospital. That particular fever I felt as she laid next to me in bed and her head was on my arm. Taking her temperature confirmed that this would be an early morning started by a hospital visit. After all the labs were back and fluids administered we were able to go home. She’s also completed one 5 day session (she has to go every day for 5 days). Even though it was tough for her to go every day she didn’t have quite the reaction to this round as she did the others.
She was able to play almost every day and she held an appetite.
There is so much victory in that sentence!
Lately we don’t know what most days will bring. Sometimes she screams in pain because her stomach just, plain hurts. She will cry, “Mommy, pwease caw the doctaw” but I know there is nothing that can be done. I’m aware now, more than ever, that God indeed fearfully and wonderfully created us. The simply, miraculous unseen ways our bodies work can only fully be appreciated once they, well, stop working. Sometimes the vicious cycles of medicine to correct errors of other medicines can have a tumultuous effect. Some days she’s hungry but just doesn’t want to throw up and eating has been a sobering, tough battle.
Other days she will sit in a chair outside and watch her friends play.
Lord Jesus come quickly.
But the good days, oh the good days are such a gift. Lane will wake up and we hold are breath.
“How did you sleep?”
She takes a second to think, “Good”
“How do you feel?” we ask with fresh hope.
“I feel, good” her sweet smile sparks our joy.
Those days are met with smiling, laughter and playing. Those days she’s not sick. Not battling. Not fighting cancer.
She’s just 4 year old, Lane. Thank you Lord for the good days.
When she does have to go to treatments there are many beautiful people who volunteer their time to bring much needed laughter and happiness to the kids. Puppet shows, visits from princesses, face painters and even a foot massage. We have a challenge at every treatment-meet a new friend and remember their name. Her face lights up when she comes home and tells me of her victorious mission…even if dad has to remind her of their name:)
There is one distinct fact that I take away from this today, that everyone is dealing with something. Some people walk around with a pebble in their shoe their whole lives. Some are victorious and some waste away with discouragement. But today I will, because of my circumstances, be a light. I still vividly remember my mother, shouting out to us as we got in the car for school, “Be some one’s hero today!”