Then came the decision about whether or not Kasia should have chemotherapy. Luckily, we had an incredible doctor who really looked carefully at all of the information and took everything into account before finally giving us his opinion that we could be safe to say no to chemo. We put all of our trust in him, and to the surprise of many other oncology doctors then and now, his opinion was right on the money.
Kasia has now been cancer-free for 3 years! At our last visit to Sick Kids, her new doctor (unfortunately, her original doctor is now working at a children's hospital in Ireland) informed us that with the type of cancer Kasia had, after 3 years, they pretty much consider it gone - likely never to return. Hearing that news made my heart feel as though it would burst right out of my chest.
This past week Dino & I have talked a lot about those days and our memories.
Reliving the moment of tucking a little pink teddy bear rattle under Kasia's arm, kissing her head over and over, walking her crib to the doors of the operating room and then having to do the impossible....let her go.
And how we then waited with so many other parents in the surgical waiting room and watched the room slowly empty out, hour by hour, until we were almost the last ones left waiting.
Remembering how we slept on a tiny cot together for days and then in a waiting room with 25 strangers for the 3 nights we had no room.
Meeting more doctors in one day that I've met in my lifetime.
How we ate Burger King for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
Dino walking into the critical care unit carrying a big helium Disney Princess balloon and tying it to Kasia's crib. We still have it.
The day that instead of just shaking his hand, Kasia's doctor gave Dino a big hug because it seemed like he needed one.
How my mom and sister-in-law surprised us by walking into Kasia's hospital room one day - after having driven for 4 and a half hours to get there - carrying boxes and bags of supplies for us...cookies, fruit, bread, peanut butter, crackers, juice, clean clothes, pillows and anything else they could cram in. And even though it was my mom, it remains hands down the nicest thing that anyone has ever done for me.
When I look back to that time 3 years ago, I never could have imagined how well things would turn out. And as we near her official 3 year check up, I hesitate to let myself believe it actually could be over. As a friend of mine who lost his daughter to cancer four years ago said, "Having had a child with cancer, even when they're in remission, I think all of us live in a constant state of fear, waiting for the other shoe to drop."
True. But today we celebrate - and even though Thanksgiving was last week (at least it was here in Canada), this week is always the one that has us reflect on how thankful we really are.
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2 comments:
Once again your post brought tears to my eyes - good ones and sad ones. Sad ones because I wish you never had to go through any of that and good ones because as you said, you have reason to celebrate.
Anniversaries are interesting. A young girl with CP recently posted on my blog about my 2 year anniversary and she said it best. She said that she sometimes looks at anniversaries with sadness but also a sense of accomplishment. This is especially true in your case - you've all come so far.
My situation and story is entirely different, but I too find that I waste way too much time "waiting for the other shoe to drop". I think that's inevitable in both our cases.
But, as you said, today we celebrate. We've been through a lot but we have two amazing kids! How lucky we are.
oh Barbara, better watch out or I'll turn you into a mush-ball!
It's funny - I've gotten some strange looks when I refer to myself as "lucky", but it's how I truly feel now. Both of us, besides having been put through the ringer, have also been blessed with two fantastic and adorable kids. I try to remember to celebrate that every day.
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