I’m trying something… I created a photo album on Facebook and I think this link will allow you to look at the pictures whether you have a Facebook account or not. Let me know if it works!
April 28, 2011
Okay, so yesterday was clinic day; I just got too tired to write about it. John took Tanner to clinic yesterday morning to give me a little break from the hospital scene. I wish we could give Tanner a break from it, but guess that’s not possible. Her neutraphil count was up quite a bit, at 2,200, but the steroids she had just come off of will artificially inflate neutraphils, so it’s hard to say what it will be once it comes back down, but Dr. Mixan felt good about it in general so we don’t have to go back for two more weeks.
John broke the news about Cari not being Tanner’s nurse any more in the car on the way there. She was very sad, but handled it as well as we could hope.
I’ve had a bit of a break this week. Jake is at my parents’ house and is coming home tomorrow. It’s given me three days by myself in the house for the whole time Tanner is at school. I really needed a little time to regroup and get some things done. It’s been nice to just go at a project without worrying about picking Jake up from school or being interrupted 1,000 times. Thanks to my parents for taking him; he’s having a ball playing golf and being spoiled. Nice for him to get a little break from the stress of our house as well. I miss him though, and am ready for him to come home.
Tanner and I went to a champagne toast at Flemings on Monday for the LLS Man and Woman of the Year Campaign. She didn’t really feel super as it was the last day of her 5-day steroid pulse, but we gamely went out and bought new dresses and headed downtown. I’ve been so proud of her at all these events; she’s really risen to the occasion and showed a lot of grace and poise at what have been very adult events. I think she understands how important this commitment is (and it doesn’t hurt that I’ve bought her a new dress for almost every event!).
People sometimes make the comment to me, “I don’t know how you all do it.” And, most of the time, I respond by saying, “You just put one foot in front of the other,” which is true. I mean, really, what choice do you have, really? But, I was reminded at the MWOY event the other night, that you really are carried through this journey by great friends, family and even people you don’t know who support you and love you through it.
There are 13 candidates for Man and Woman of the Year. Some of them have a personal connection to blood cancer and know first-hand how important it is to find a cure. Some are just caring people who have recognized a great cause and are giving enough of their time and energy to agree to take it on. Either way, they are supporting us and all the other families who have, unwillingly, embarked on the road to beating a blood cancer. Their commitment is an inspiration to me; it makes me realize we are not alone. There are lots of people who care and who recognize that this disease needs to be eradicated before it affects even one more family. To say we appreciate what they are doing is an understatement; frankly I don’t really know to thank them properly.
Tanner has been feeling really good lately. The reduced chemo level she is on because of her low counts last month is evident. She’s only on 50% dosage at this point. Although I love that she’s feeling so good, it makes me nervous for her to just be on 50%. I assume if her levels are good next visit, they’ll raise her up to 75%. We’re delaying her next chemo a week to accommodate her Sleeping Beauty shows. She would have had chemo two days before her first show and been on steroids for all three shows. Dr. Mixan was nice enough to let us delay a week until the show is over and school is out so she won’t miss any of the end of school fun.
Speaking of Sleeping Beauty, if you want tickets but haven’t gotten them yet, you can order them by calling the Boilerroom Theatre at 794-7744.
April 13, 2011
We really didn’t expect Tanner’s counts to come up to 1,000 or above today. Generally, counts below 500 take a while to come back up so we were genuinely surprised when Tanner’s neutraphils came back at 1,040 today!!!
I told Tanner, we high-fived in celebration and then she immediately asked, “Can I make to school for recess?” Too funny.
We missed recess, but we did high-tail it back in time for her to spend the afternoon happily at school. At pick-up, she bounced to the car with a big smile on her face and asked if we could play outside when we got home… which we did.
We got to see one of Tanner’s all-time favorite nurses today, too! Blaire was Tanner’s ER nurse that first touch-and-go night when she was lifeflighted to Vanderbilt two years ago. Then, she happened to also be our nurse when we first heard in the ER that Tanner probably had leukemia. Traumatic situations make for tight bonds. Blaire is now a advanced practice nurse in the ER ICU, so we haven’t seen her in a while (thankfully). We loved seeing her; she still keeps up with Tanner through Tanner Time.
So that’s the good news… here’s the part that keeps me from celebrating too much, though. We started back at 50% chemo dosage today and go in next Wednesday for her monthly IV Vincristine and a lumbar puncture with methotrexate… her Final Spinal. No rest for weary bone marrow, I tell you. Makes me a little nervous to pile so much chemo on as soon as her counts recover, but this is how cancer treatment works. You don’t stop for much of anything. Call us cautiously optimistic.
Many of you have been asking about Sleeping Beauty tickets. They went on sale today. You can get tickets by calling the Boilerroom Theatre in Franklin at 615-794-7744. The shows are on Saturday, May 21 at 3 pm; Sunday, May 22 at 7 pm; and Monday, May 23 at 7 pm. The theater is tiny (holds about 120) so call quickly for tickets. You’ll want to arrive at the theater ½ hour before to get a good seat. I must ask, for fear that we might sell out the theater with Tanner fans and some poor parent might actually miss her kid in his premiere, for you to please consider one of the evening shows. The matinee is very popular with families.
Thanks to everyone for the good mojo!!!!
March 25, 2011
It’s been spring break this week for both Tanner and Jake. Since Tanner had chemo this week, we didn’t go anywhere, but decided to make the most of our staycation by scheduling a fun activity every day.
Monday, we played in the gorgeous spring weather we were having earlier this week (not so much now!) at a playground with some friends. Tuesday, we went to the Tennessee State Museum. They were having an Egypt exhibit, and Tanner is fascinated with Egypt. Turns out, I think we enjoyed the state history even more. Tanner and I have been reading the Little House on the Prairie books, so it was fun seeing the pioneer history fleshed out at the museum. Tanner kept recognizing things like a butter churn or a yoke for oxen that we had read about in the books.
Jake totally cracked us up because he was making up a story for everything he would see, and tell it in this really serious voice.
“Let me tell you about this,” he would say. “This is boat and it’s tied up and the ropes made it not sail right.”
“Was the boat okay?” I asked.
“Nope, it sank to the very, very bottom of the water with the fish,” he said seriously.
Tanner and I started asking him about everything we saw, just to hear what he would make up.
Wednesday was clinic day, but we made plans to see a movie in the afternoon with friends. On the way home, we stopped to get gas and buy some candy for the movies (yes, I realize that’s against the rules). Unfortunately, when I tried to start up the car to go, it wouldn’t. The kids and I got out the car (in the rain of course) and walked across the street to a Firestone and got them to tow my car, and called John to pick us up. I had seriously had it at that point. But, the men at Firestone were so nice and John was, as usual, like a breath of fresh air. He cheered up the kids and resuscitated me with his infectious enthusiasm. “We’re making lemonade, people!” he yelled in the car. “I never get to see you guys in the middle of the day… I love it.” We went home to let the dog out and then dropped John off at work, still on schedule to make our movie… until Anna Lynn called to tell me it was sold out… really.
Now, I was just mad… until I started laughing. I mean, seriously, what else can you do at this point? I had worked too hard to get us to this stupid movie. Thankfully, our friends were game and we found another movie theater playing the same movie an hour later. We prevailed!!! We filled almost a whole row of the movie theater and the kids laughed out loud at the movie.
Thursday, the kids got a much-needed break from one another with separate playdates. Tanner went to a friend’s house and Jake had a friend from school over. Then, Tanner, John and I went to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society Man and Woman of the Year campaign kickoff where Tanner was officially announced as Girl of the Year along with Jack Woods, Boy of the Year. They debuted the video we had shot a month or so ago. It’s a great video, although Tanner is uncharacteristically shy in it. This was taken not long before we decided that she needed medication for anxiety. You can see her in this video regressing to babyish talk; very unlike her. Just underscores for me that we made the right decision.
In contrast, last night she was working the room, full extra-large personality in play. The event last night was pretty grown up at a nice restaurant and at one point, John and missed her. We thought she was sitting at the table playing with John’s phone. Instead, we spotted her across the room, standing on a chair, talking animatedly to three men, who were laughing and talking back. Then, the photographer asked to take a picture of them. They did one serious shot and then Tanner got them to all make silly faces. John said, “Should we go ask what she was talking to them about?” I paused and said, “No, I think I’d rather not know.”
Here’s the video:
And, today, we had big plans to see the marionette show at the downtown Nashville library. The Whitlers were meeting us there and everyone was excited. The kids were playing on computers in the library waiting for the show to start when we figured out they didn’t have a show today (something I did not see on the Website). But Ron Whitler (Tanner Time’s blog host), who is a long-time friend and from the same school of lemons as my husband, didn’t miss a beat and just said, “We’re game for whatever, let’s go to lunch.” So, we went to Margaritaville and had a great time.
So, I want to thank all the people who helped me make lemonade this week, including Tanner, who has been a trooper despite not feeling very well from steroids, and Jake, who never fails to make me laugh. I am truly blessed by the most amazing friends and family.
March 23, 2011
As clinic visits go, today’s was pretty smooth and easy. Tanner’s counts were high – 2,200—but they didn’t change her chemo. She has, we believe, a sinus infection, which could raise her counts as her body tries to fight it. If her counts remain high next month, they will raise her chemo levels above 100%, so hopefully her counts will come back down before then (seems weird to be wishing for low counts, but the name of this game is low, but not too low).
Tanner has been on antibiotics for two weeks now for the sinus infection with little improvement. We could suspect allergies since it is practically snowing Bradford Pear blossoms here, but allergy medication does not help her at all. So, we will continue on the antibiotics and try some prescription nasal spray as well.
After Tanner got her Vincristine (IV chemo), we went down to the food court for lunch. It was nice to not be in a hurry to get back to school (we’re on Spring Break this week). They had medical play today and both she and Jake just love getting a doll or stuffed animal to play doctor with. The doctor play you see at the hospital is definitely not your usual variety. Most kids just take temperatures and listen to hearts. But, “hospital” kids start IV lines and deliver oxygen through masks. Tanner hooked her doll up to an IV pole and carried it around.
We met a family during medical play that had two children both suffering from a bone disease that causes their bones to break very easily and stunts their growth. They were 7 and 8 and neither one any bigger than Jake. The mother said they have broken around 70 bones each and that the daughter is deaf in one ear because the tiny bones in her ear are broken. They come in every three months for a transfusion of medicine that strengthens their bones. I’m listening to this woman tell the story of these kids and realizing that they will never get better. She confirmed that they will always have this problem. I told her that Tanner has leukemia and that sometimes I feel lucky because at least she will (hopefully) get better and not have to endure any more treatment. She laughed and said every time she is in the infusion room she feels lucky because her even though her kids have a bone disease, at least it’s not as life threatening as cancer. We all count our blessings to our own beat, I guess.
It was a tough day for me. Every clinic visit seems to get a little harder lately. I’m tired of worrying and thinking about sick kids – mine and other people’s. This week hasn’t been such a great week for some local CKs.
Savannah, an 11-year-old with soft tissue cancer that I have been following through friends and on CaringBridge, died this week. She had battled this terrible disease for more than 5 years through 3 relapses and had finally run out of treatment options. We had seen Savannah several times in clinic and she stood out to me for her grace and poise. She and Lily were good friends.
We also saw a family in clinic today that we met early on in treatment. Thomas’ brother was an intern at John’s company and we connected with his Mom nearly 2 years ago in recovery while we both waited for our kids to awaken from sedation after lumbar punctures. Thomas has T-cell ALL, a more difficult to treat type of leukemia than B-cell ALL, which is what Tanner has. Thomas’ age, 16, and the fact that he is a boy, increases his risk, but he has done well on treatment. Now, however, he is having some worrisome symptoms that have doctors checking his bone marrow for relapse. I stood in the hall with his Mom and we hugged and cried a little before they headed down for the surgery. I’ve checked his caringbridge three times tonight hoping for good news, but nothing yet.
Another Vandy kid I follow, Cole, is not doing well either. He has the same type of leukemia that Tanner has, but had a central nervous system relapse last year and is undergoing an unbelievable chemo regimen. He has had unexplained high fevers for a week that has stumped everyone thus far.
Several weeks ago, at a Girl of the Year function, I met the Mom of a little girl named Samantha who died last year after a five-month battle with T-cell ALL, including a bone marrow transplant. She was 7 when she died, which is hard for me to hear, and her Mom, even though she was welling up talking about it, quickly assured me that her leukemia was very different than Tanner’s.
On the way home from clinic, we stopped for gas and I went in to buy some candy for the kids. As I was waiting in line to pay, a photo on the newsstand caught my eye. A little girl with a hat and a surgical mask on was surrounded by smiling girls at a party where they had announced her Make-A-Wish trip to Disney. I didn’t recognize this child, but turns out she is also from Franklin and has the same soft tissue cancer that just took Savannah’s life.
It’s just too much sometimes. It feels like cancer is everywhere and that it will never end. Treatment might end for Tanner in August, but the worry won’t go away. We’ll still go to clinic every month on pins and needles hoping that her bloodwork doesn’t show that the beast is back.
I’m tired of worrying. Of wondering if every little thing is actually a big thing. I’m tired of watching kids lose the battle. I’m tired of choking back the terror when I have to admit to myself that two relatively textbook years of chemo treatment can mean nothing in just one little moment.
Cancer, I hate you with a venom I did not think I possessed. Today you are winning the battle with me, but I have no intention of conceding the war.
March 9, 2011
We were due at clinic this morning for a counts check, since Tanner’s chemo was raised two weeks ago. But, frankly, I think we would have gone in anyway; Tanner’s cold has gotten worse over the past few days. She’s been congested and coughing with no relief from allergy meds.
I hate expecting the worst, but I did. I packed some necessities quietly in my purse, just in case we ended up staying. I figured if Tanner’s counts were really bad, they might keep her, considering the cough and congestion.
Thankfully, I was worried for no reason. Her counts were perfect – 1320 – and they decided she has a sinus infection and gave us oral antibiotics to take. No IV antibiotics, no hospital stay… amen.
On the way home, Tanner was really stressed that we weren’t going to make it back in time for recess at school. She had also been really mad that morning because John and I told her she might not be able to go to school at all today. They were rollerskating in gym class and she did NOT want to miss that important educational opportunity! When we pulled up to our house to run in and get her backpack for school, I told her she had missed recess. She got really mad at me and it suddenly occurred to me… she blames me for lots of this. She BLAMES me.
Because I’m the one who delivers most of the bad news… “You can’t go to Spirit Night at Chuck E. Cheese because you might get sick.” “We need to go to the hospital this morning.” “You have to take this nasty medicine.” “I’m going to have to pull you out of school early… again.” As you can see, I’m a pretty easy target.
After I got back in the car with her backpack, we drove to school and I reminded her that I would be back in a couple of hours to take her to see Allison, the play therapist. Tanner has NOT been happy about seeing Allison lately. When she got out the car at school, she would not talk to me or say goodbye to me.
I got out the car and grabbed her shoulder to turn her to me. She resisted and I squatted down and held both of her arms so she had to face me.
“Do you know how much I love you?” I said. She shook her head. “I love you so much that I would 100 times rather have leukemia myself than to watch you have leukemia.”
Tanner’s eyes widened. I had her attention now. “I would do anything to take this away from you… but I can’t. There is nothing I can do to change the fact that you have leukemia. But you know what I can do?”
Tanner shook her head again.
“I can take the very best care of you that I can. I can take you to the hospital when you need to go, and I can keep you from doing something or going somewhere that might make you sick. I can make sure you take all of your medicine and that we go to see Allison so we get rid of all the bad feelings. This is all I can do; and I do it the best I can. I don’t make us have to go to the hospital or have to take medicine… leukemia does that. Does that make sense?”
“Yes,” she said with some little tears in the corners of her eyes.
“Tanner it hurts my feelings when you are mad at me for these things. I know they stink, but I’m just trying to take care of you. Can you try not to be so mad at me?”
My daughter put her arms around my neck and hugged me hard. She sniffed and said, “Hold my hand while we walk in, okay?”
By the time we got into the school office, she was bright eyed again and eager to get to P.E. for skating. And, when I picked her up just two hours later to go to Allison’s, she did not get mad at me… for the first time in months.
I’m learning that antidepressants don’t keep her from getting mad or frustrated or sad. But, they do make it easier to reason with her and for there to be a better outcome to the conversation. Three weeks ago, that conversation would not have been possible at all. Three weeks ago, Allison said that she saw a miserable little girl who had lost the ability to pull herself out of her unhappiness.
On the way home from Allison’s we saw the biggest and most beautiful rainbow I have ever seen. I told Tanner I thought it meant good luck to see such a huge rainbow. She thought maybe it meant she would stay healthy for Sleeping Beauty. I think maybe it meant there are brighter days ahead… we just have to hang on.
Things are looking brighter the last couple of days. After lying awake half the night on clinic day night worrying about the crazy amount of medicine that had put in my child in one day, and what the effects of that medicine would be, I woke to a very pleasant surprise… Tanner did not feel all that bad and… was pleasant. For the first time in months, she didn’t fight with me about getting ready for school… she actually smiled and said, “Okay, Mom.” Wow. Seems that anti-depressant works a lot faster than the doctors suspect.
After just three days on the anti-depressant, Tanner is a different child. John came downstairs on Friday night after putting her to bed and said with wonder, “She actually seems happy.” And right then we realized how much anxiety and fear and frustration and anger our poor child had been carrying around for quite some time. All the misbehavior (well, maybe not ALL of it) was really just misery. All the frantic, impulsive, over the top nuttiness was anxiety. I think her unhappiness happened so gradually, we just didn’t realize how bad it had gotten. It didn’t really look like unhappiness; it looked like combativeness. And, mercifully, it’s gone now, replaced with a peacefulness we haven’t seen in a long, long time.
Theoretically, it should only get better. She is on steroids and the extra chemo has set in and she doesn’t really feel all that great and even so, we see an improvement. Also, she is not even taking the full dose of the medicine; we will work our way up to that in a few weeks.
It makes me sad and happy at the same time. Sad to know how much all this has affected her and how heavy her burden has been. But, happy to know this is helping her regain her optimism and her true personality. It’s been a nice couple of days to hope for the best.
Then, today, another gift. Tanner auditioned last night for a part in Sleeping Beauty and today we found out she is going to be… wait for it… Sleeping Beauty (aka Briar Rose and Princess Aurora)!!!!! We couldn’t be prouder and she couldn’t be happier. We are so thankful to Act Too Players for believing in Tanner and giving her this chance. The play is in May… we’ll put out dates as soon as we know them.
Hope your weekend is as going as well as ours.
February 2, 2011
I dropped Tanner off half-hour late to school yesterday knowing that she wouldn’t make it all day. The steroids had done her in, but I thought she had a couple of hours in her. As expected, she called me about noon and we picked up a movie and she spent the rest of the day on the sofa.
I didn’t think there was any way she would make it to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society’s Man and Woman of the Year reception that evening, which was fine. It’s not mandatory that the Girl of the Year be there, but it’s nice for candidates and potential candidates to meet the kids who are inspiring them.
Tanner insisted on going (surprise, surprise) despite the fact that she didn’t feel very good and her legs were itchy (she has been having some kind of allergic issue or something).
The four of us arrived at Cabana in the pouring rain and spent a nice evening with some of the candidates and some potential candidates. We are so grateful to these soldiers of hope for a cure, some of whom have personal connections to the cause and some who don’t. It was good we came because Jack, the Boy of the Year, couldn’t make it and I think it meant a lot to people to meet Tanner. I was asked to tell our story and shared with them the extent of Tanner’s treatment and what she has been through. They were eager to learn and I’ve already made facebook friends with a few who wanted to know more.
I was asked to keep my comments brief, so I decided to tell our story in numbers – in doses to be more accurate. I went back to Tanner’s chemo roadmap in our 3-inch Vandy binder and counted up all the chemo she had received thus far. It took my breath away to see it listed that way. I wanted to share it with you as a testament to the toughness of my girl and of all the kids who endure this brutal treatment and more:
Tanner’s Story in Numbers
25 days inpatient in the hospital
8 ER visits
47 visits to the oncology clinic
3 blood transfusions
5 platelet transfusions
3 antibody transfusions
196 doses of dexamethasone (high dose steroids)
27 doses of IV Vincristine
482 doses of oral mercaptopurine
2 doses of Peg-Asparaginase via simultaneous injections to the thighs
8 doses of IV Cytabarine
1 dose of Cytabarine injected into the central nervous system via lumbar puncture
5 doses of IV methotrexate
15 doses of methotrexate injected into the central nervous system via lumbar puncture
56 doses of oral methotrexate
1 dose of IV cyclophosphamide
3 doses of doxorubicin
13 doses of oral thioguanine
This is, of course, only part of the story… the physical part. The emotional part can’t be put into numbers… it’s too complicated for that. And, Tanner’s numbers are really the best case scenario for a kid with leukemia. Boys would have a whole year more of chemo, and those who are standard or high risk or who have a more difficult to treat type of leukemia would endure much more than this.
It was good to remind myself of what she has been through… to remind myself that she has reason to act cranky sometimes or be angry or frustrated much more than the normal child. To marvel at how often she is not these things… how often she is happy, enthusiastic, excited and joyful.
Like today, for instance. I kept her home from school today. She didn’t feel great and there was some strep in her class that we wanted to avoid. She watched some TV this morning, then decided she would make some valentines for the kids who will be inpatient over Valentine’s day… her idea. She was so excited about it and got out paint, stickers, jewels and markers to decorate them with. She, Jake and I made nearly 30, and Tanner excitedly pulled out the last of her Halloween and Christmas candy and taped pieces to the valentines. She made a special one for Alli, the little 2-year-old who was on the ventilator and is now off, but still inpatient. We’re not due at clinic again until Feb. 23, so we’ll make a special trip in to deliver them. She wanted to go today!
We were so proud of her last night. Proud of how poised she was as adult after adult she didn’t know came to shake her hand. Proud of how she stood sweetly next to me while I read off the list of chemo she had endured, and of how she poked me with her elbow when I got a little teary and reminded me to buck up! Proud of her for just making it through with fierce determination to still find the good things in life. Proud of how her teacher said she did all the work asked of her yesterday at school even though she had to put her head down several times because she didn’t feel good. Proud of her for recognizing that it was important for her to be there last night even though it isn’t really a fun event for kids.
It was a great night to hope.
January 24, 2011
Tanner’s big day finally arrived. She had her stage debut at Rosie in Alice in Wonderland Jr. on Sunday. She did great and had such a good time. She just loves performing and is definitely in her element. It is such a cute show!
We had a whole row of people there to see her. Thanks to everyone for coming; it meant a lot to her.
If anyone still wants to see it, she’s performing Wednesday and Thursday nights at 7pm. The show runs about an hour and 10 minutes and you can buy tickets by calling the Boiler Room Theatre in the Factory in Franklin at 794-7744 (that’s my shameless plug for Act Too Players!). It really is a cute and campy version of Alice in Wonderland.
Next up… Sleeping Beauty. We decided not to do Annie after all. The schedule was very tough and, after much agonizing, we just decided she couldn’t handle it. Tanner actually seemed a little relieved and agreed that she might rather do Sleeping Beauty with Act Too. They just rehearse once a week, which frees her up to go back to dance lessons. She is doing hip-hop and ballet. Sadly, she had gotten very worried that she would get sick and miss an Annie rehearsal or, worse yet, the show. It was causing her visible anxiety.
Frankly, Tanner is experiencing a lot of anxiety right now, for one reason or another. I’m not sure whether she’s just so sick of all this or what, but we’ve started seeing the play therapist again and are hoping she’ll get some relief (and then John and Jake and I will get some relief!).
Tanner has clinic Friday morning with the dreaded lumbar puncture with chemo. It is the worst time for this to fall… she is just so anxious to begin with. We haven’t even told her because we don’t want her to worry about it and ruin her two shows this week. It will bring a crashing halt to her elation from the shows, I fear. The childlife specialist at the clinic, Sara, is going to accompany us to the OR again to help distract Tanner and keep her from working herself up as much. She will be tired from doing two shows two nights in a row on school nights so I’m not hopeful about it turning out all that well. Sigh. HOWEVER, this is the second to last one. Only one more spinal after this (fondly known in leukemia world as the “final spinal”). Truly a landmark.
An update on little Alli who I wrote about last time — she has FINALLY come off the ventilator and is breathing on her own again, but not really out of the woods yet. She still has a ways to go to recover from this and keeps getting other infections in the process. I can’t imagine how excruciating this has been for her little body to endure and for her family to withstand. But… progress nonetheless for her!
January 17, 2011
We met her at Petco in Bellevue. She was one of the many dogs rescued by Proverbs 12:10. Daisy Mae (formerly Thelma) has been coming there every Saturday since she was a pup. I can’t imagine why. She loves everyone and gets along with everything. But, lucky for us she was still there last Saturday so we could spot her, fall in love and bring her home. Technically, we are “fostering to adopt.” We have until next Saturday to decide whether we are keeping her for good. But, I think it is safe to say the Pages are smitten and hopelessly committed, barring some kind of unforeseen Cujo moment, of course.
The interesting thing is that she has never been an inside dog. She has lived her whole life outside. But, she has been a perfect lady inside and is quickly figuring out what she’s been missing. Now, if she could just figure out what stairs are and how to navigate them!
Tanner has been doing well. She has struggled with some minor health issues like a urinary tract infection, a still unexplained rash on her arm and a persistent cough. But, it hasn’t stopped her from rehearsing for her Alice in Wonderland shows next week and loving it. She is the cutest rose! I can’t wait to see the show.
On a sober note, please pray for the little two-year-old girl, Alli, who I have mentioned in previous posts. She has pre-b ALL, just like Tanner, but is high risk. Their road has been unbelievably difficult and Alli has been on a ventilator since last week, fighting fungal pneumonia. Fungal pneumonia is very serious; so serious that all kids with ALL take daily antibiotics to prevent it. She had to be moved up to an oscillator today, which is apparently a step up from a ventilator, because she is having so much trouble breathing. I can’t imagine the pain of watching your child slowly get worse, instead of better. After all we have been through with Tanner, I don’t think we’ve ever had a situation that didn’t improve steadily. It must be absolute hell. This sweet little girl and her family need prayers.