I was out picking up a few things today while the kids napped and happened to stop by a small store for literally about 5 minutes (get in & get OUT. yes, that's how I shop). I found exactly what I wanted within 30 seconds, immediately turned to go to the front and then thought I was very lucky to be walking up to pay right when the second cashier open up and took me first. With my in/out time record surely to be broken with this gem of a shopping experience and my thinking that Costco could learn a thing or two about this particular business model, my positive momentum came to a screeching halt. The computer processing debit/credit cards decided to come crashing down. And there we were - me, cashier, and a blank screen. Foiled, yes, but a reason for the occurrence presented itself. While we began to wait for "Doug" the manager to come fix the problem, the cashier politely asked what the orange ribbon on my shirt was for. Now I know I should expect such questions with the outward display and I do. But it always gives me pause for a second before I feel like I am about to drop a bomb (of bad news) on a random stranger. There have certainly been a few times prior to this where I am the one consoling them (which is fine, I've had nearly three months to process, wrestle with emotions, and subsequently help Ellie kick the sh*t out of cancer....they have had about 2 seconds). This cashier was a little different. When she heard my reply, she quietly said "Oh" and then had to answer one of Doug's questions being yelled in her direction from his office. She fiddled with the computer a few more seconds (I believe to reboot it), we exchanged some sarcastic comments about the overall effectiveness of computers in our lives, and after a time long enough where I thought the subject had been permanently changed she looked at me and said, "Two kids in my family have beaten cancer, we will pray for your daughter in all of our circles". Wow. We talked for about 90 more seconds total but I gathered from her how incredibly proud she was of her 4 yr old niece for beating cancer and surviving some very rough times. Her smile offered reassurance and her voice that responded instantly conveyed experience and support. The offerings of support from people I have never met (until now) has been one of the most powerful forces I have ever felt. No matter where you go, its like everyone (EVERYONE!) is rooting for the Home team. Ellie's team. A few posts ago, I mentioned how these daily moments occur on occasion where I get stopped in my tracks for a few seconds....this was definitely one of them. I honestly think there is a reason you bump into anyone.
We have had a really great week. T & E's laughter and cheerful play has filled the house. Last weekend, we were able to take them both to a friend's birthday party and enjoy being around other kids for a while. We've learned these types of weekends are never guaranteed so we try to make the most of them even if it means disrupting a nap schedule here or there. Ellie had her chemo day at the hospital clinic on Thursday where they did labs and sent us home with her last round of four Cytarabine shots. Her blood counts have begun to fall again and she is now below the 500 ANC line (neutropenic). So, we are back to relative home confinement. It is a painful reminder to know we have to deny her visits to the park or trips to other parties (quite honestly, it sometimes brings up remnants of the always lingering somewhere thought "Why Us?") but I know 15 years from now when she is thriving, these 2.5 years will seem relatively short. Deep down, we know that. She'll have labs again Monday to see if she needs a transfusion ahead of her next treatments on Thursday. Polly has gotten so good at giving her the Cytarabine shots. Being that she is 2 years and a few months old now, she has associated the idea of the shot with a lot of pain, so these are not fun. LPCH puts in a small temporary catheter type device in her arm so we do not actually have to stick her with a needle. But, since the injection goes under the skin into her SUB-Q space, it still is pretty painful. She has her last shot tomorrow afternoon and then she is done with those until the second half of the Delayed Intensification phase (about 3-4 months from now). All things considered, she is very stoic with these shots and all is forgiven a moment later when the epic choice of Elmo vs Cookie Monster Band-Aid is presented to her. (Well, what would YOU choose?!) Her nightly dose of the immuno-suppressant "6-MP" also ends this week on Wednesday, so if we can make through this week without catching any colds (knocking, no BASHING on wood right now), her blood counts should start to come back up again as we close out Consolidation on Sept 29th.
I'm sure you are aware I work with teenagers 7-8 hours a day (10-12 when its soccer season). One of the greatest things about teaching is that no two days at the office, so to speak, are ever the same. It, of course, does not come without its trying days and sometimes the "a-ha" moments do not present themselves until well after graduation when my colleagues are no where in sight. The remarkable thing about working with high school students though is their seemingly never ending ability to surprise you with some small tidbit of forward progress at an unsuspecting moment. It is perhaps these surprises, or little daily victories, that symbolize a growing professional partnership to support one another taking on the world together. I appreciate that very much and I am extremely thankful to have the opportunity to work where I do. This past week, it was possibly I who learned the most out of the 1000+ students, faculty and staff that walk the halls every day. The senior class of 2012 at Serra touched our hearts and for this, Polly and I are forever grateful. The Serra students are pretty amazing. We want to say THANK YOU many times over. If you missed it, I'll let you read for yourself - click HERE.
I want to offer prayers of thanksgiving for our friends, parents of Lily, who is also fighting the beautiful fight with cancer. She received great news this week of a milestone marking recent treatment success. We think about you guys everyday and are walking this journey as firmly by your side as humanly possible. My quote in the article linked above ends with words I've read Lily's mom write many times over and all credit goes to her for these words which have given us strength and inspiration - "Please pray for miracles....because they do happen" Darn right they do! Support comes in so many forms through family, friends, fellow cancer warriors, and sometimes most wonderfully from strangers you talk to for only 90 seconds. It helps top off the tank after great weeks like this with uneasy anticipation of any potential near future troubles. One of the Sisters in the Serra community mentioned to me yesterday about the many international prayer circles that have Ellie's name in them regularly right now. I heard over email this week from a handful of different students who have all graduated at various times in the last three years and were writing to offer support. And I may need to nudge my mom to make a few more orange ribbons because after 200+ that have gone out, I currently have none left in my possession other than the now slightly frayed one I wear everyday. Day 81 ends with the power of prayer leading the way. This is all nothing short of amazing....and we sleep peacefully tonight because of it. Thank you for that.
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