This time, one year ago, I was waiting for a call back from our Pediatrician's office. I had been calling since 8am about Alex's chest X-ray from the night before.
At 4:15, Eric walked in the door. At 4:20, the doctor called, and told us to go to Doerenbecher to get a CT scan. My heart started racing as it plummeted into my stomach. I knew that Alex's Thymus Gland was enlarged. I was hoping that it was just a mistake.
You see, I had spent the previous 24 hours researching an "enlarged thymus" - there is NOTHING good about an enlarged thymus. Everything pointed to cancer. I couldn't wrap my head around the possibility.
By 5:30, my mom was watching Tessa-Lynn while we proceeded to get *completely* lost on the way to the hospital. We finally found our way, and entered the emergency room at around 6:30. Alex didn't really understand what was happening. Eric and I were scared out of our minds.
Alex was so brave when they gave him his IV, and was so scared when we went to get the CT scan and X-ray.
After the procedures, it only took a few minutes for the doctors to come in the room and give us the news: Alex had either Leukemia or Lymphoma - he would be admitted to the hospital tonight, and we would meet with the Oncologists in the morning.
All the oxygen left the room.
Eric collapsed in his chair. I was sitting with Alex and started crying. Alex, not knowing what those words meant, reached over, and wiped the tears that were running silently down my cheek.
My very first thought was: "It was too good to last". I hate that I thought that - I hate that my initial reaction was to give up. It was the first and only time I did.
The doctors were so compassionate while showing us the X-ray. Even my untrained eyes could see that the mass had grown considerably in only 24 hours.
My heart had traveled from my stomach to my throat as we walked the halls to the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. I have never seen so many wires. Alex had a heart monitor, an oxygen monitor, and had an IV line.
That night, we met with the Oncology team - it was now midnight. The rest of that night/morning was a blur. There were lots of tears, and lots of calls to loved ones.
For those of you who are new to this Blog, you can find out more about those first few days by reading the November 2008 Blog entries.
We are one year closer to being cured. We are one year closer to normalcy. We are one year closer to leaving this world of cancer behind us.
We love you Alex - more than you will ever know.
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I remeber that day, like many others remeber that day also. Sara, everytime you write in this blog you bring tears to me eyes, sometimes i cry hard. I feel your pain as if it were my own. Please know that I love you so very much and am here for any needs that you may have. You are one strong woman!
ReplyDeleteSara, you share your story so eloquently with the rest of us, most of whom probably cannot even imagine what you have gone through over this past year. Alex is so very lucky to have you and Eric as his mom and dad. It sounds like you all make an incredible team, with amazing support from your friends and family.
ReplyDeleteI remember that night too well...in fact, those first few days are burned in my mind. From the night before, when I was trying my damnedest to convince you there MUST be a benign reason to have an enlarged thymus...to that call when you found out your worst fears were being realized. I can picture myself, holding the phone, standing at the foot of my stairs. I felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of my lungs. And then I think you and I just cried together for about 30 seconds before either of us could say anything.
ReplyDeleteAlex has come so far since then...it's hard to believe it's been a whole year! It's like we've all been living in a different world for the past 12 months...a world in which Alex has Cancer. And it still sometimes doesn't seem like it can be real.
Your strength as a mom...and simply as a person...has amazed me. You and Eric have been rock-solid for Alex through all of this, and he has been able to be as close to "normal" as a 4-year-old with cancer can be. That says so much about both of you. You are as amazing as your awesome little boy!
By this time next year, you will be within 6 months of saying goodbye to chemo and to Cancer...forever. I believe that with all of me.
I love you, dear cousin. Thank you for sharing your heart with all of us over the course of this past year. What an inspiration you are! And Alex, well, he is simply amazing! Warm hugs to each of you. One year closer!!!
ReplyDeleteCongratulations on your diagnosiversary. You are right, there are a lot of emotions (all sad ones). But you are one year closer, you are strong and you have an AWESOME support network! We are better people for knowing you. And that's worth celebrating!
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing this.
ReplyDeleteThe year has been full of hurt, worry, pain, and prayers. Looking back I can say that each moment has been filled with awakinging. No one ever feels devastation will effect their own lives. Twenty one months ago I didn't understand the full effects of how fragil life can be. I don't want this posting to be one of negative thoughts so I wont go into the hurt and pain that we all are feeling. I just really want you, Eric, and the kids to know that we are always thinking of you and will do anything to help continue the fight. Alex will continue to meet his battle and defeat, Tessa will continue to get the kisses from her brother that make her giggle, and mom and dad will receive the gift of smiles from Alex, giggles from Tessa, and years of love, joy, boyfriends, girlfriends, school tests, driving tests, she said, he said, quit touching me, MOMMMMM she did this.... Daaadddd, he did that... and so forth.
Love every moment, charish every kiss, and keep all memories precious. They grow up fast and YOU WILL have many memories of Alex and Tessa to bank.