Today is the first day of the last round of chemo! It's the beginning of the end of this leg of our journey. Our journey isn't over, far from it. We've just finally come to the fork in the road. Thankfully, we get to take the path towards continued recovery for Faith, learning how to walk again, rather than the alternative. We've known of kids whose journies have ended and now their families have to learn how to go on. Those stories rock us to our core.
So, this morning we all were buzzing a little. Well, everyone but Faith. She seems very unaffected by this huge milestone. Normally her apathy would really irritate me, but it's what's gotten us this far. I can't be thankful that she never cried for hospital admissions or chemo rounds and then expect her to be ecstatic this morning. Truthfully, I can practically count on one hand how many times she's cried. That Friday evening when we took her to the hospital the first time she cried the whole way. We tried to cheer her up with French fries and soda, but eventually gave in and just left her alone. The next was when we had to give her the post-chemo shot at home, in her bottom. Chandler and I were dumbfounded that she made it through the biopsy surgery and the port placement without so much as getting misty-eyed, but this shot sent her into hysterics. Another time she cried when we told her she would lose all of her hair, but when it actually began to fall out, not a tear fell. She's had a breakdown about missing a birthday party and then the Demi Lovato concert, but that's pretty much it. One thing is for sure, she will be sad when we leave the clinic on Friday. She won't cry, that's not her way, but she will silently mourn the apparent loss of her friends at the clinic. We'll be back, more than I think Faith realizes, but they won't be long visits where she can be the center of attention for the better part of the day, the week really.
This morning, Kady was jabbering away about how excited she is for the end of chemo. She listed all of the foods that she will be able to eat again. That's been a big deal around here. Both girls are thrilled to be able to enjoy fresh berries again. They want to eat at Subway and Taco Bell, silly, but they are kids. I think Kady is most thankful that she can worry less about her sister. She worries a lot.
When we first started they warned us that we would be wary of the end. Nervous that maybe we didn't get it all. Fearful that if we stop now, Faith might get sick again. I am terrified that Faith will get sick again. So much so that the thought of it makes me feel physically sick, but I'm done with chemo. If it hasn't gotten it by now, then, well, I don't know. BUT, I do know that I am DONE. I no longer wish to poison my daughter, rendering her body defenseless against common germs. I am so tired of seeing a tube protruding from under her neck where her port line is. I want her hair to grow again. I want people, well-intended or otherwise, to stop looking at her with that pitiful question mark on their faces. I never want to give her another shot, or change a bag of fluids in the middle of the night. I want her to grow again and be taller than her baby sister. I need her to go back to school and socialize and normalize and be a part of the group. I can't wait to lick her drippy ice cream come and not worry that I may of just made her sick. I am ready to get our life back!
So we will celebrate even though this week will be exhausting. The five day chemo's always are with trips to the bathroom every 2-3 hours day and night and heavy backpacks of fluid to lug around. We will celebrate that Good Friday means something very different to our family now. And then, on Monday...maybe in a few Mondays when her body recovers, we will start the next leg of our journey, stronger but weaker, happier but reserved, and thankful with a smidge of anger always lurking in the back.
So, this morning we all were buzzing a little. Well, everyone but Faith. She seems very unaffected by this huge milestone. Normally her apathy would really irritate me, but it's what's gotten us this far. I can't be thankful that she never cried for hospital admissions or chemo rounds and then expect her to be ecstatic this morning. Truthfully, I can practically count on one hand how many times she's cried. That Friday evening when we took her to the hospital the first time she cried the whole way. We tried to cheer her up with French fries and soda, but eventually gave in and just left her alone. The next was when we had to give her the post-chemo shot at home, in her bottom. Chandler and I were dumbfounded that she made it through the biopsy surgery and the port placement without so much as getting misty-eyed, but this shot sent her into hysterics. Another time she cried when we told her she would lose all of her hair, but when it actually began to fall out, not a tear fell. She's had a breakdown about missing a birthday party and then the Demi Lovato concert, but that's pretty much it. One thing is for sure, she will be sad when we leave the clinic on Friday. She won't cry, that's not her way, but she will silently mourn the apparent loss of her friends at the clinic. We'll be back, more than I think Faith realizes, but they won't be long visits where she can be the center of attention for the better part of the day, the week really.
This morning, Kady was jabbering away about how excited she is for the end of chemo. She listed all of the foods that she will be able to eat again. That's been a big deal around here. Both girls are thrilled to be able to enjoy fresh berries again. They want to eat at Subway and Taco Bell, silly, but they are kids. I think Kady is most thankful that she can worry less about her sister. She worries a lot.
When we first started they warned us that we would be wary of the end. Nervous that maybe we didn't get it all. Fearful that if we stop now, Faith might get sick again. I am terrified that Faith will get sick again. So much so that the thought of it makes me feel physically sick, but I'm done with chemo. If it hasn't gotten it by now, then, well, I don't know. BUT, I do know that I am DONE. I no longer wish to poison my daughter, rendering her body defenseless against common germs. I am so tired of seeing a tube protruding from under her neck where her port line is. I want her hair to grow again. I want people, well-intended or otherwise, to stop looking at her with that pitiful question mark on their faces. I never want to give her another shot, or change a bag of fluids in the middle of the night. I want her to grow again and be taller than her baby sister. I need her to go back to school and socialize and normalize and be a part of the group. I can't wait to lick her drippy ice cream come and not worry that I may of just made her sick. I am ready to get our life back!
So we will celebrate even though this week will be exhausting. The five day chemo's always are with trips to the bathroom every 2-3 hours day and night and heavy backpacks of fluid to lug around. We will celebrate that Good Friday means something very different to our family now. And then, on Monday...maybe in a few Mondays when her body recovers, we will start the next leg of our journey, stronger but weaker, happier but reserved, and thankful with a smidge of anger always lurking in the back.
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