Yes, bright and early we'll be heading to the hospital for a dosage of Spinal Methotrexate. PLEASE let the music therapist be there. Please, please, please! There is something about waking up from anesthesia for my little Gideon. He wants to leap off the bed or wrestle or he's super agitated. I am not looking forward to this. If the music therapist isn't in, I will sing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" a million times. It's worth it since it protects me from getting head-bashed by my fuzzy-noggined one. Gideon, however, is beyond thrilled with the idea of this medicine. I told him he is getting sleepy medicine tomorrow and he said, "YAY! I need to go to bed QUICK!" I'm thinking he said this to hurry the morning. I just want the night to feel slow...twenty hours of sleep slow. Rest-drenched and deep sleep slow.
Tomorrow also begins steroids.
I put that sentence in its own paragraph.
That one, too.
Let's just disconnect everything since the wiring in my heart is a little kinked and knotted right now. I'm wondering if his body is up for all of this. I can't wrap my mind around the idea of my boy who has been vomiting and hardly wanting to eat or drink a thing can get all of this poison on top of it. I want him to heal, first. Why is that not possible? Oh, yeah. Freaking cancer. Do I sound as pathetic as I feel? This is one of those the-tears-are-gonna-spill nights. I'm fighting them. Everything will be okay.
On top of this horrendous weight of not liking this present situation, I read this article. Kim Hill defeated childhood leukemia, but she passed away too early at 44 because of the relapse and other issues. This is a reminder as to WHY WE NEED A CURE. We need it so that Gideon's (and other children like him) quality of life will be nothing short of excellent and normal once they reach remission. This is why pediatric cancer needs more funding. This is why I am practically begging you to donate to CureSearch here in Gideon's honor. Gideon will make it out of this. He will beat this cancer. We believe it. But if there could be no parents who have to take their baby in for spinal chemotherapy since a CURE was found, I am passionate about it. Childhood cancer needs to be looked back on as The Black Plague. It needs to be seen as a disease of the past. Every dollar is appreciated and needed. THANK YOU to those of you who have donated already.
Do you see why I get obsessed with worthwhile causes? Does it make sense? CureSearch and donating blood are two things that are actually proactive. They are legitimately helping NOW when I feel so helpless living in this new reality.
And when I feel wordless, I go to other people's words:
“If ever there is a tomorrow when we're not together, there is something you must always remember: You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we're apart... I'll always be with you.” - Christopher Robin (Thank you, Nicole)
"God has not promised skies always blue, flower-strewn pathways all our lives through; God has not promised sun without rain, joy without sorrow, peace without pain. But God has promised strength for the day, rest for the labor, light for the way, Grace for the trials, help from above, unfailing sympathy, undying love." - Annie Johnson Flint (Thank you, Derek)
"May the sun bring you new energy by day. May the moon softly restore you by night. May the rain wash away your worries. May the breeze blow new strength into your being. May you walk gently through the world and know its beauty all the days of your life." - Apache blessing (Thank you, Johnny)
"Your bubbly self IS still in there. Like a hotdog wrapped in deepfried bready substance on a stick, it's in there. Yes, I've compared you to a corndog. Nom nom nom." - Jenny Diederich (Thank you, Jenny)
"I had no shoes and complained, until I met a man who had no feet." - Indian Proverb (Thank you, card I haven't sent since if I sent it, it would seem like I was calling the recipient a complainer... So, I kept it for me.)
ANnnNNnNNNNd now. This is my dad-daughter song. While munching on a powdered donut on a chilly U.P. morning, dad would break out the Willie Nelson. I always made him blast this one and would perform my "routine" for the family. Do I still know the dance? Why, yes. I do.
And now I feel better. A little. Thanks, Willie.