Lemonade for Leukemia

Lemonade for Leukemia

Lemonade for Leukemia

September 28, 2009 This afternoon, Tanner, Jake and I made a pink sign that said, “Lemonade for Leukemia.” Then, while Tanner had school with Mrs. O’Hara in her classroom, Jake and I made lemonade and packed the wagon with a card table and chairs, cups and Leukemia and Lymphoma Society red bracelets.

At 5:10, we pulled the wagon across the street and set up shop. An hour later, we packed back up, having collected $259 for Tanner’s Light the Night Team. Yes, you read correctly… $259!!! Tanner is so excited. We came home and I thought after dinner we would count up the money and make the donation on-line. But, Tanner had other ideas… she wanted to know if she could have the loose change that John and I throw into various containers throughout the house. Needless to say, we’re taking it tomorrow to Kroger to put it in the Coinstar machine to be counted.

But, here’s the best part… she lost a tooth today (that’s a whole other story) and we put it under her pillow for the tooth fairy. After putting her to bed, I came down to eat dinner and she showed up on the balcony and said, “Mom, I want to write a note to the tooth fairy to ask for extra money for Light the Night. Can you help me?”

So, she dictated the following note:

Dear Tooth Fairy,
Please leave extra money so I can get ahead of the other team and have the most money for Light the Night.
Love, Tanner, Jake, Mommy and Tanner

She asked me, while I was writing the note, why I kept laughing. I wanted to tell her that I loved her competitiveness, her never-give-up attitude and her wonderful innocence in thinking that we could somehow make up the $4,000 that separates us from the first place team. That is the attitude that will help her come through this stronger than before and I love seeing it.

So, look out! Tanner Page is on a rampage to be the high dollar fundraiser for Light the Night this year.

I want to thank my friend Robin Embry for putting together this Light the Night team for us and all my dear friends at Lovell Communications for jumping in to help. I don’t think we would have ever done this without her and it has turned out to be the most positive thing for us. I know that I’ve dedicated a lot of blog space to this event, but it’s not just because we want so badly to see this cancer eradicated. This fundraiser has given us, and especially Tanner, something positive to focus on and has empowered her to feel like she could have some effect on this disease. That is priceless and we thank everyone for helping her feel this way.

Now, excuse me while I go find my wallet and make sure the tooth fairy is generous.

Love,
Beth

This Is How a Cure Happens

September 27, 2009 I’ve been sitting here on the sofa for the last hour writing thank you emails to those who have donated to Tanner’s Light the Night Team. I’m happy to say it’s not the first time I’ve spent time writing thank yous for the event, nor will it be the last, as I am still not finished. I’ve had tears in my eyes for the vast majority of the time I’ve been writing. I can’t believe the generosity of our friends, our family and those we have never even met.

Tanner was so excited when I told her that we had passed our goal. In fact, we haven’t just passed it, we’ve blown right by it in a flurry of generosity that has made me hopeful that someday, no one will have to ever get leukemia. In the past four days, we have raised another $1,000 for a total, as of this writing, of $5,920. I can’t believe it!

This is a how a cure happens… one donation at a time… donations in honor of a little girl who appreciates it so much.

We’re planning our lemonade stand for this week so Tanner can contribute as well. She’s really excited and so hopeful that she’ll be able to walk with us on Thursday. John and I said today it will be a “perfect storm” of circumstances if she is able to come, but we’re still hoping.

We had a wonderful weekend. My parents took on the responsibility of Tanner’s medication (I didn’t realize how complicated it was until I tried to explain it) and kept the kids overnight while John and stayed in downtown Nashville Friday night. We had a great dinner at my favorite restaurant, a good night’s sleep and a leisurely, uninterrupted breakfast before meandering our way home Saturday afternoon. It was wonderful and my parents are awesome. They stayed with us Saturday night and the kids loved getting to see them.

Tanner has had some odd moments of not feeling well and not being able to describe her symptoms that have me worrying about her red counts, but her energy continues to be great, so I’m trying not to worry about it. Poor thing, I keep staring at her face to see if her lips are blue and picking up her hands to look at her fingernails. I’m sure she’s sick of me.

We have some cancer kid friends that need your prayers … Tanner reminded me last night not to forget to pray for Kinsee – an eight-year-old with T-cell ALL who goes to St. Jude on Tuesday to begin preparing for a bone-marrow transplant. She will undergo intensive radiation and chemo treatments until all the cells in her bone marrow have been killed and her white counts are down to 0. Then, they will transplant the donor’s marrow into her bones and see if she recovers. She will be in the hospital for a minimum of 100 days. This is a very dangerous procedure that, Thank God, is not part of Tanner’s treatment plan.

Another eight-year-old you have probably heard me talk about, Lily, has had very low neutraphil counts. Neutraphils are your big, infection-fighting white cells and a normal count level would be from 5-10,000. Lily’s neutraphils last week were at 300. She has had to be pulled out of school until her counts recover, after just having been able to return. Lily has not been feeling well the last two days and has had a low fever. Please pray that her immune system recovers and she does not have an infection or virus.

Thank you so much to everyone who has donated to help stop this disease, or at least find a more humane way of treating it.

We love you,
Beth

Happy Birthday to Me

September 23, 2009 If you read Tanner Time this morning, or if you were one of the 50 or so people who sent me some kind of good wishes today, you know it is my birthday. Wow! What can I say? How do you thank a husband who does something like that? Or, friends who send so many kind wishes?

Today was full of the normal things… laundry, dishes, diapers… but every time I checked my email, I got a little burst of birthday cheer! Then, my two best friends, Beth and Kim, and Beth’s husband, Glenn, brought dinner and cake to the house. We ate, sang, and laughed, a lot. My husband and kids gave me a giant singing card, money to go shopping and a subscription to People Magazine. It was the perfect kind of birthday.

Friday, my parents are coming to take care of the kids while John and I spend Friday night in downtown Nashville. What a treat for everyone! The kids will love having Grandmom and Grandad here and John and I will get a date night and our first uninterrupted night of sleep in a long time. Yay! My birthday will just go on and on… I love that!

Thank you so much for all the kind and encouraging words today… I was blushing by noon. If I’m only half as strong as people think I am, I’m doing okay ☺. Actually, there is an Eleanor Roosevelt quote printed on the back of my Leukemia and Lymphoma Society “Relentless” T-shirt that I hope to live up to some day. “Anyone can give up, it’s the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that’s true strength.”

I know myself enough to know that I am not the kind of person who will never complain, not the kind of person who will always put others first, not the kind of person who is eternally positive. I complain often and definitely have my down moments. But, I am strong, to the point of being stubborn sometimes. Fortunately, I think this is one of the requirements of making it through a journey like this. I believe Tanner may have inherited some of this stubborn strength from me. She is so strong willed that she can drive you crazy sometimes. But, she can also kick some serious cancer butt.

Today, I was brushing Tanner’s hair and quite a bit fell out. I gathered it up and was on my way to throw it in the trash, when Jake head butted Tanner… with his face. Blood everywhere, screaming, busted lip… ugh. Later, when we returned from Tanner’s play therapy appointment, Tanner found the clump of hair on the couch where I had abandoned it. She held it up in two hands and said in a kooky voice, “Awwww.” Then, she threw it up in the air, laughing, and ran off to play race cars with Jake. Just in case all those kind words today went to my head, my daughter reminded me to be humble in the face of true strength.

Hope your day was great, too.

Love,
Beth

To My Wife On Her Birthday!

I know all of you read this blog to learn about Tanner and get a glimpse into Tanner’s world through Beth’s eyes as well as to support us in this place where we find ourselves – and for the prayers and well wishes I thank you from the bottom of my heart!  I mean it – we could never make it through this without you!  I do not write like her, nor do I express myself as she does – (She is really good at this thing)   But today I want to make my post – and it is for my wife.

Beth Page

Beth Page

Beth Brisbane Page you are amazing!   One of your home co-workers cries and wets his pants (Jake),  the other is fighting an ugly disease that does not allow for a normal life of school, parties, etc (the time most moms get breaks)  – I want you to know that I realize that in many ways  this is as difficult for you as it is for Tanner – the feelings of being trapped in a house, the feelings of not wanting to go to clinic one more time, the feelings of exhaustion when no one sleeps at night – trust me I realize!  I watch you (a social butterfly is an understatement) a past VP of a Public Relations firm – working everyday with polly pockets and dinosaur toys.  I know that this gets old –  and the pretending games and motorcycle races drive you almost to the place of insanity – I realize – I promise!  But Baby – let me stop today on your birthday and in front of all these witnesses and remind you why I married you. I married you because…

  • you are strong!  You remind me of that everyday when you get up and start a new day of exactly what you did yesterday – not knowing how Tanner will feel, or if she will say thank you for the grind you work through each day.
  • you are smart! You remind me everyday when you learn something new about the disease and find new things we can do to make Tanner’s treatment better and easier for her.
  • you never give up!  You are the mother tiger – you fight for Tanner – if it the school, the hospital, or even me (for all the readers – I am a germ-a-phobe – If it were up to me Tanner would be in a bubble) Beth gives Tanner a life!
  • you are balanced!  You remind me everyday by how you make the kids exercise, do school work, give to others, and play without screens in front of their faces.
  • you are beautiful!  You look great in Pajamas or Jogging Pants, Dresses or Jeans – I know Jake tells you that you are cute all the time – maybe I need to learn from my 2 year old son and tell you more often!
  • you are you – no matter what any one else thinks!  That is a  lesson we all could learn – I am not sure that you have ever followed the crowd a day in your life – I do believe, however,  you may have looked which way the crowd was going and chose the other route for fun!
  • I just love you and I am crazy about you!

This post was so easy to write – and I could have gone on and on and on – that is how I know I love you – these things just spilled out – my fingers could not even keep up with my thoughts  – you are as amazing as I knew you would be when I married you – you are committed to our kids – advocate, cheerleader, mommy, and more – so on the days when you can’t feel it – read it!

We all stop and wish you a Happy Birthday!  You are a great mom and wife – you are my soulmate and my friend – you are amazing

Happy Birthday!

My Happy Place

September 20, 2009 Do you ever have one of those moments where you feel all is right with the world and you are exactly where you are supposed to be? I find myself having these moments sometimes when all four of us are together and something just clicks and I feel supremely happy.

This weekend, after having spent a rainy, but great morning volunteering at the Nashville Polycystic Kidney Disease Walk with my girlfriends and then running some errands in the afternoon, I arrived home to find that John and the kids had built this HUGE fort in the living room. It involved the usual chairs and blankets, but they had gone beyond any structure I had ever dared built and had a small condo of sorts under there. After dinner and a quick bike ride around the neighborhood, we all got under there together, even the dog! Tanner had her laptop under there playing a computer game, John and Jake were wrestling and I was throwing a tennis ball out of the tent for the dog, who was bringing it back over and over again. John and I kept laughing about how crawling around in a 3 foot high fort would have been much easier in our twenties.

It was a simple moment and, to tell you the truth, I had a chair leg digging into my back most of the time, but something about it made me so happy. It was one of those times where I realize, that for every time I wish I were napping on the sofa instead of playing Polly Pockets or listening to Coldplay instead of KidzBop in the car, there is a moment like this that makes me realize I could never be this happy without Tanner and Jake.

Yesterday morning was the Franklin 4 the Cure event at Westhaven to raise money for childhood cancer. Tanner’s Trotters braved the rain to run in Tanner’s honor and we are so grateful to them for their generosity and determination! John ended up not being able to go to the race after all; our babysitter got sick and couldn’t make it, but Leslie and Keith Harper, who spearheaded the team, came by after the race to bring Tanner a t-shirt and show her the ones they had worn, with Tanner’s Trotters printed on the front with a Sharpie. Many thanks to them for organizing and running and for coming by afterward to see the kids, when I know they would have rather gone home to take a nap. It meant a lot to Tanner.

We’ve been a little on the down low this weekend; not only has it rained, but both of us feel that Tanner’s energy level is a little off due to the anemia. She would gladly go until she dropped, if given the opportunity, but we’ve been trying to keep her from wearing herself out. Today, we spent the afternoon with John’s brother, Michael; sister-in-law, Amanda; and nephew, Mack, who is six. They live right here in Nashville, but we don’t see them enough, for one reason or another, and it was great to spend a spontaneous afternoon at their house over pizza.

On the way home, there was a beautiful sunset and Jake was amazed by the colors. I love his unjaded view of the world. He was still talking sleepily about the “cowors” when I put him in his crib.

Oddly, Tanner has had less severe side-effects from this round of chemo, despite the fact that she received more chemo this week than last. She was nauseated the first day, but up the second and has only had sporadic nausea since then. Overall, Tanner has had fewer side effects than many on chemo, and for that, I am so thankful. With usual Tanner enthusiasm, she has thrown herself at cancer just like she does everything else, and is doing so much better than we could have hoped at this point.

So, even though the rain is supposed to continue all week long, I think I’ve found my happy place again.

Love,
Beth

A Little Magic

September 6, 2009

“You would never know.”

That’s what my best friend Kim said tonight while we stood and watched Tanner roll down the hill at our other best friend Beth’s house. They have a huge yard and the kids love to run wildly through it, as only kids can.

There are many times when Tanner looks and seems completely normal that it’s easy to forget. She looked so happy, like any other kid, rolling down that hill. Climbing up it was a little difficult, but she did it.

Beth and Glenn had us all over for a cookout. The kids picked acorns off a tree and then we hid them like easter eggs in the yard for them to find. They planted some seeds in pots to grow carrots (we had to stop Tanner half way through because the dirt was getting all over her and it was probably not the best idea). They climbed on Glenn’s “tractor” and pretended to drive. They took turns singing into Aunt Beth’s real microphone — Tanner sang some Hannah Montana and Jake sang a little “Itsy bitsy spider” and “Old McDonald.”

After a great dinner, we toasted marshmallows over the cinders in the grill and made S’Mores. Then, they chased fireflies in the yard.

On the way home, Jake, who is never awake when it is dark outside, kept looking at the car lights and the sunset and saying, “Look at the colors Mommy.”

We arrived home tired and full and Tanner was asleep before she hit the pillow.

It was a perfect evening. Thanks Beth and Glenn for sharing a little magic with my kids.

Love,
Beth

Ten Grays Closer to a Streak

September 2, 2009 Poltergeist was one of the first horror movies I ever saw. I still remember how the mom, played by JoBeth Williams, showed up with a big, distinct gray streak at the end of the movie from the stress of being scared for her children’s lives. I keep thinking, especially on a day like today, that it will be a miracle if I don’t have one of those by the end of this whole ordeal.

Today, Jake knocked his front tooth out. We were, once again, in the cul-de-sac riding bikes and he was on his razor scooter, which he dearly loves. He is a bit young for the razor scooter, but Jake has an uncanny sense of balance and rides it as well as any 5-year-old. I turned to check on him just in time to see the scooter hit a rock, sending him flying over the handlebars, face first. I knew it was not going to be pretty. When I picked him up, his tooth was just hanging from his mouth and he reached up, pulled it out and threw it on the ground… it was every bit as gross as it sounds.

We couldn’t get our dentist on the phone (ironically, two of the hygenists had been by the house that afternoon to bring Tanner a gift and wish her well), but called a friend who is a pediatric dentist who told us there is really nothing you can do as long as it was knocked out root and all, which it was.

Amazingly, he didn’t have any other loose teeth and didn’t cut any other part of his face… must have been a direct hit.

I had a moment when I was sitting on the curb with him, a washcloth pressed up against his mouth to stop the bleeding, when I just thought I would like to go back in time before I had kids and redo things. When I only had to worry about myself. It was a fleeting thought, but in the interest of honesty, I must admit to having it. I think I am about 10 gray hairs closer to that JoBeth Williams streak.

It’s not that Jake losing a tooth is the worst thing that ever happened. I mean, I lost both my front teeth at three after having run into a little boy’s forehead, teeth first. And, 45 minutes after Jake lost his, he was happily sucking on a popsicle and shoving tiny pieces of buttered bread in his mouth. No evidence that the gaping hole where his tooth once was bothered him at all. And, as Tanner happily pointed out while I was still trying to stop the bleeding, “Good for you, Jake. You can put it under your pillow and the tooth fairy will bring you money.”

It’s just that some days, I think I’ve had enough. I’m especially over that sickening adrenaline rush you get when your kids are hurt. I may have a heart attack long before I ever get that gray streak.

But, we get up and move on. People do it all the time. People with much worse problems than mine. A family I read about in the news has one little girl with leukemia and the other with recurring brain tumors. Jake’s tooth seems hardly worth mentioning when I think about that family.

So bring it on. I’m not afraid of a little gray. In the wise words of my 6-year-old daughter, “It’s just hair.”

Love,
Beth

P.S. We are just $25 short of $3,000 donated in honor of Tanner’s Light the Night team. Our goal is $5,000 and we have until October 1 to raise it. Thank you to everyone who has donated and who has volunteered to walk in honor of Tanner that evening. We are deeply touched by these acts on generosity on behalf of our girl. To donate and/or join the team, go to http://pages.lightthenight.org/tn/MidTN09/TeamTanner.

This is Jake’s Day

Jake's first day of school

Jake's first day of school

August 27, 2009 Recently, my hairdresser told me that my hair was falling out, likely due to stress. Tanner overheard me saying this to a friend and asked me tonight what stress meant. I told her it meant that I worried about things.

“What do you worry about?” she asked.

“I worry about you,” I said.

“Because I have leukemia,” she stated. She didn’t ask. She knows why I am worried about her.

“Yes,” I said. “And, I worry about Jake.”

“Why do you worry about Jake?” she asked. “He doesn’t have anything wrong with him.”

“I worry that Jake gets forgotten sometimes,” I said. “It’s hard for him, too, honey.”

Tanner looked puzzled.

“Tanner, did Jake get a present in the mail, today?” I asked. She shook her head. “It was his first day of school today, but it was also your clinic day. Do you think I got more calls and emails about his first day of school or about your counts today?”

“My counts,” she guessed, wide eyed. “Why did people do that? It was mean!” she said, concerned for her little brother.

“No, honey, it isn’t mean,” I said. “Leukemia is a pretty big deal and people want to know how you are doing, because they love you.”

“A bigger deal than a first day of school,” she said.

“Yes,” I agreed. “But, Jake’s first day of school is still a big deal, especially to him. And, I worry that even Daddy and I forget to make a big deal for his stuff sometimes.”

As I said this, I remembered how I had pulled Tanner’s old nap mat out from under a bed the night before and washed it for him to take to school this morning. I had searched for weeks online for that nap mat when I bought it for Tanner, trying to find exactly the right mat, but I had totally forgotten about getting one for Jake and decided at the last minute that Tanner’s hand-me-down would do.

This was a risky conversation I had blundered into; I wasn‘t at all sure I should be having it. I didn’t want Tanner to feel guilty about the situation, but I really thought she might be able to understand that this has been hard for Jake, too. So, I waited with baited breath to see how well she would get my point.

After a moment, she said with a smile, “I’m going to give him some of my presents tomorrow.”

Whew. She understood and she responded exactly as I had hoped she might. She loves Jake fervently and he is fast becoming her best friend. She actually already shares almost everything she is given with him. These days, they often have no one else to play with; and they find ways to cross the age gap between them and find common ground. And they fight, of course, but what siblings don’t?

So, today was Jake’s Day… his first day of school. He was a little clingy when we first walked in, but was fine once he saw a particularly appealing “monster twuck” and didn’t even say goodbye when I kissed the curls on the back of his little head. The note from his teacher at the end of the day said he was “happy and playful.” That’s my boy. He took a nap on his nap mat for the first time and told me the teacher said to “shhhh and cwose my eyes.“ He also told me that Seth was his new “fwiend.” His paper crayon taped to the floor to mark his spot for lining up is “bwue.” Big stuff.

This is Jake’s day. If you want to read about Tanner‘s clinic visit, you’ll have to note the postscript after my sign off. Today, Jake gets to be first.

Love,
Beth

P.S. Tanner had a great day at clinic today. Her neutraphil counts were up to 1300 from 610, so she was able to take both types of chemo today. They reduced her methotrexate dose by 20%, to see if she tolerates it better this time. She was a champ and I was really proud of how brave she has become with all of this. The two chemos really messed with her stomach, though, and we had to stop several times while driving home from the hospital and on the way to pick up Jake for restroom breaks. But, she felt pretty good at bedtime so I’m hopeful she’ll handle this round as well as she handled everything else.

Jake’s Big Day

August 26, 2009 Jake has his first day of school tomorrow! He’s so excited! I had to drag him out of Miss Julie’s room kicking and screaming the other day at orientation, so I think that’s a good sign he likes it. He went to “school” at the same church last year as well, but this year has a new teacher, and he will be doing much more big boy things.

I asked him at dinner what he liked best about Miss Julie’s classroom and he said, “Monster Twucks.” Nuff said.

At first when Tanner found out Jake would be going to school this fall, she was upset. “If I can’t go to school, then Jake can’t either,” she said. But, when I pointed out the fun things we might be able to do without little brother around, she found a way to be happy for him.

I’m proud of her, though, for loving him enough to be excited for him when she is so sad she can’t go to school herself. She is going to help me take his “first day of school” picture tomorrow morning before we drop him off and make our way to the clinic.

She’s also made a lot of progress expressing anger appropriately. She still has her moments, but has managed to be more respectful and calm than she had been over the last month or more. I don’t often notice her trying to pick and fight anymore, and if she does, we just put her in her room until she calms down and that seems to lessen the duration of the problem at least. So, I’m proud of her for this, too.

We’re praying for better counts tomorrow so we can start back on the methotrexate and maybe go over to the school to visit Tanner’s classroom and teacher. They’ve already had some Swine Flu cases there, though, so I don’t know if we’ll be able to go either way. It would mean so much to her, I think, to see the room and her desk there waiting for her. I think she’s having a hard time connecting what is going on there with what she is doing with her homebound teacher. A visit might help, but we certainly don’t want to risk any exposure to the flu.

Tanner’s Light the Night Team has raised $2,125 so far to help in the fight against blood cancers! If you would like to walk with us Oct. 1 in Tanner’s honor, go to http://pages.lightthenight.org/tn/MidTN09/TeamTanner and sign up for Tanner’s Team. All proceeds benefit the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.

Will post tomorrow once I know any medical updates.

Love,
Beth

Same last name?

 

Tanner and Jake playing doctor in June

Tanner and Jake playing doctor in June

August 25, 2009 It’s amazing to watch a kid internalizing something that is happening to them and then see it show up in their play. I was in the kitchen cleaning up today and heard Jake yelling, “No, no, no!” at Tanner as she was saying, “You have to hold still or it will hurt!” This, in the world of a mother, is grounds for leaping the kitchen bar to see what is going on.

 

What I found was Jake, lying on the floor with his shirt unbuttoned, Tanner trying to hold him down as she “sliced” him with a pretend scalpel from the doctor kit. After convincing Tanner that she really shouldn’t hold her brother down for pretend medical procedures, I volunteered to let her operate on me instead.

Tanner proceeded, with great aplomb, to surgically implant a port-a-cath into my chest. Well, actually, it was a little closer to my belly-button, but why nitpick?

She then accessed my port with a pretend needle, and with a syringe, proceeded to “flush” my port and administer chemo. All the while, I was supposed to be asleep from “sleepy milk.”

Priceless… both for my memory bank and for Tanner’s mental health. In one playful moment, she turned the tables and became the one in control of all the medical procedures she has endured. Good for her.

This play mimics many of the things that happen to her each week at clinic or have happened to her during her hospital stay at diagnosis. The day after she was diagnosed, Tanner had a port-a-cath surgically implanted into her chest. This is a small, circular port with a silicone bubble on the top and a catheter line that runs from the port to an artery directly above her heart. When she needs anything you would normally receive or give through an IV (blood, medicine, chemo, etc.), she gets it through her port. It allows medicine to get through her body quickly and allows her more freedom than a central line which leaves the IV tubes hanging out of the child’s chest. Every week, when we go to clinic, the nurse sticks Tanner with an IV needle through her skin into her port. That’s how they draw blood to check her counts and how the administer her chemo. Luckily, there is a numbing cream we can put on her port before we go to the hospital that really cuts down on the pain of accessing (and deaccessing) the port.

Last week, she sat at a disconnected computer in my office while Jake and I played foosball and pretended to be the admitting clerk at the hospital. She told me to pretend I was in the ER and she was trying to find me a room. The conversation went something like this:

T: Mam, can you tell me your name?
B: Beth Page

T: What is your son’s name?
B: Jake

T: Same last name?
B: Uh, yes.

T: Your phone number area code first?
B: I give the number, trying not to laugh

T: I’ll need your insurance company
B: United Healthcare

T: And your group number
B: Pause (Now I am laughing and have to take a moment). 51645

T: Thank you, Mam. I’m looking for a room for you and your son. You don’t want to have to sleep in the ER; it’s very noisy here. Just give me a minute. (she types at the computer for a while). Guess what? I found you a room! You’re so lucky!

Too funny… and too awesome. This is exactly the type of thing that lets her process what has been happening to her and shows me that she is accepting this new normal. She is six, but she has it all figured out, thanks to a doctor’s kit and a somewhat willing brother as a patient.

Love,
Beth