Clinic Day #51

April 13, 2011

We got to meet Champ at Medical Play!

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.

Tanner and Blaire in 2009

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!!!!

Love,
Beth

Clinic Day #49

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.

Love,
Beth

Better Days

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.

Love,
Beth

Clinic Day #47

February 23, 2011

Just finished completely revamping Tanner’s medication spread sheet. It’s a week- long sheet that keeps John and I straight on morning, noon and night meds as well as her as-needed medications. It’s absolutely necessary. You can’t believe how complex it actually is.

But, today, they raised Tanner’s chemo quite a bit. Her counts were high at 2,200, but we’ve all been battling a cold virus for the past week so I didn’t think much of it. But, she’s also grown quite a bit lately and the chemo is calculated by body volume.

It pained me to give her so much medicine tonight… 19 pills and two liquid meds. I felt sneaky while I was getting it all together… like I was trying to put something over on her. But, what good would it do to tell her that they raised both her chemo and her steroids? It would only scare her. I’m terrified about what this will do to her counts. We go back in two weeks to check them. The middle of cold/flu/strep season is not the time to be neutrapenic.

We also got an additional med today – one we hoped to never have to ask for. Tanner was put on an anti-depressant today to attempt to control the anxiety that seems to be eating her up. She has been so agitated lately, has been having troubled going to sleep at night, doesn’t want to go to school in the morning and just seems really frantic. Together with Tanner’s therapist, Allison, we decided to ask Dr. Mixan, her oncologist, for some help for her. The medicine they put her on will take about 4-6 weeks to reach it’s full potential and they gave us some other meds to use, if necessary, in the meantime.

I have mixed feelings about giving her the anti-depressant. On the one hand, I’m relieved that she is getting something that should help her stop spinning – it’s painful to watch her be so angry and agitated. I think it is damaged her self-esteem to have her behavior so constantly corrected. And, frankly, either she needed to be medicated or someone was going to have to medicate me so I could be more patient. It has been a real struggle the past several months dealing with her. She did go to sleep tonight easily for the first time in weeks, so the drowsiness side effect of the medicine might be a real blessing for Tanner.

On the other hand, this is so far removed from anything you would ever hope for your child… a seven-year-old on antidepressants. It’s scary and disheartening, to say the least.

Putting an IV in Tanner's doll

So, having given all this sobering news, let me just say that clinic turned out to be fun today. We had to wait for long time for meds from the pharmacy so we went downstairs to kill some time and they had medical play in the lobby. The kids got to choose from decorating a little doll in a hospital gown or getting a stuffed animal and playing doctor with some real medical equipment. It’s such a therapeutic activity for both Tanner and Jake, both of whom know way more about medical procedures than any child should. Tanner got really into it and played even more when we got home, which is a healthy way for her to express some of her feelings about receiving so much medical treatment.

...and in Jake's bunny!

After playing doctor for a while, we ate some lunch and had some ice cream, picked up our meds and then came home. It made for a kind of long day at clinic, but I think it’s worth it for the kids to have some good experiences at the hospital to offset the not so good ones.

Please keep Tanner in your thoughts this week. Anytime her meds are increased, it takes a while to adjust and she feels pretty bad for a while. This is the most chemo she has ever taken and the highest dose of steroids, too, so I’m sure she’s not going to feel very well over the next week.

We’ve had some really good moments in the past few weeks, too, but I’ll save those for another night when I feel a little lighter and am not so tired.

Love,
Beth

Clinic Day #45

January 4, 2011

Refreshing to write 2011 on the date line. Nice to enter the actual year that chemo will end for Tanner.

Sorry for not updating for so long. We’ve just been living… like normal people, you know?

Here are the highlights:

A White Christmas in Tennessee

– Christmas was wonderful and relaxed. We stayed right here and enjoyed the snow with John’s family. It was beautiful and peaceful and magical… just the way Christmas should be.
– The children’s Christmas Eve service at church was perfectly imperfect, as always. The kids get to pick a costume to wear and come forward as their part is read about in the reading of the Christmas story. Tanner was an Angel… Jake, after much deliberation and protestation, was a shepherd. Beth and Glenn came home with us and we ate Stromboli and exchanged gifts.
– My parents were planning on coming to our house the day after Christmas, but got snowed out. So, that Wednesday, after clinic, the kids and I piled in the car and headed to their house for “Christmas” with Grandmom and Grandad. We left John at home for a much needed bit of alone, downtime.
– We’ve spent lots of time online and at shelters looking for a new family dog. We’ve found one great candidate, but we’re continuing to look to be sure we’re finding just the right one. If you know anyone who can’t keep their medium to large sized, housebroken, kid-friendly dog, send them our way!

Tanner’s clinic visit last week held very good news… her counts had come down to 1,600 (from 3,700) on their own so we did not have to raise her chemo over 100%! Huge sigh of relief. No one wants their kid to be the one that needs more than 100% dosage to keep counts down. We were terrified that going over 100% would crash her counts and keep her from being able to do Alice in Wonderland and Annie over the next couple of weeks. That would have devastated her.

That was the good part of clinic. The not-so-good part was that they raised her steroid level slightly because she had gained some weight. She normally takes 5 pills per day for 5 days; they raised it to 5 ½ pills per day. As evidence of how unbelievably potent the steroids are, she reacted as if they had doubled her level. She was crazy emotional, tired, would eat like crazy all day only to feel too nauseated to eat at dinner, and now has been having extreme neck and jaw pain for the past three days. We thought the pain might be from the Vincristine (IV chemo), which can cause jaw and face pain. But, today her left cheek swelled slightly, but noticeably, so we think she might have some kind of infection, maybe a salivary gland. She’s also been coughing a lot. After talking with Tanner’s doctor today, we agreed to come in to clinic tomorrow if it isn’t any better. If she develops a fever, we will have to go to the emergency room tonight.

Please send good thoughts for Tanner’s health during these next few months. She will be so crushed if she has to miss either of her plays. Allowing her to participate in Annie, which has a fairly intensive rehearsal schedule, was such a leap of faith for us. We wanted to say no, but knew she really needed us to say yes. Hopefully, her body will cooperate.

Also, please keep in your prayers little two-year-old Alli. She was diagnosed with high risk pre-b ALL (Tanner is low risk) at the end of October and has spent more time in the hospital than out. She is currently in the hospital with a cold, very low counts and a intestinal infection.

Love,
Beth

Clinic Day #43

November 3, 2010

I don’t know why it surprised me. It shouldn’t have. It’s not like we have not known all along how kind the people at Vandy Children’s are. I think it was just stunning to look at all the kids who were in the hospital today and realize that the comfort and peace of mind of just one of those children was so important to them.

Today, when we went down to the surgery waiting area for Tanner’s LP, both the Childlife Specialist, Sara, and the music therapist, Jenny, came with us. Then they accompanied us to the pre-op room and, finally, to the operating room itself. They played music, dealt a hand of UNO, and generally, were engaging enough to distract Tanner from the impending, dreaded sleepy milk.

It was a vast improvement over the past few times. There were no anti-anxiety drugs, no tricks, no deceit. She did cry and get scared at the very end, but the lead up was so much better. She was just having too much fun to get so worked up.

In the end, I carried her to the operating room and held her while they pushed the sleepy milk into her port. She buried her head in my neck and cried, then finally went to sleep. I laid her down on the gurney and we left to spend another ½ hour in a waiting room we now know like the backs of our hands. It was the best it could be, but let’s face it… it still sucks.

So, four kinds of chemo delivered three different ways… plus steroids… in one day. Anytime I start to feel a little nervous about the radiation next week, I remember all she endures.

Her counts were good… too good at 2,600, so they upped her chemo again. I suspect she will feel pretty bad tomorrow, but you would have never known it this afternoon. She danced and sang and she and Jake put on a superhero show for Aunt Beth. And, unbelievably, had trouble going to sleep tonight because of the “nap” she had at the hospital.

Heard about yet another little girl from Franklin diagnosed with leukemia this week. Please pray for her family as they struggle to comprehend the incomprehensible and for this little girl that the chemo begins to heal her quickly and her body responds as the doctors hope it will.

Love,
Beth

Childhood Cancer Awareness Month

September 7, 2010

Every time I sat down today to write a post, I felt scattered… pulled in lots of directions. Should I write about this… or that? I feel scattered for a really good reason – there are lots of exciting things going on.

September is Childhood Cancer Awareness month. Which means we are busy with activities designed to raise awareness and raise money to help end childhood cancer.

Did you know that research dollars designated for Childhood Cancer account for less than 2% of all cancer research dollars annually? This, despite the fact that gains made in treating children with cancer directly benefit adults (the opposite is not true). Chemotherapy was developed for children and tested first on children. When childhood cancer research is underfunded, not only do children suffer, but adults suffer.

Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (ALL) is the most common type of childhood cancer. It is the type that Tanner has, and thanks to those who have funded research in the past, and those who have participated in clinical trials, Tanner’s prognosis is good. In 1960, someone with ALL had an 10% chance of survival, today it’s 80%. Tanner’s chances are even better, thanks to the particular type of ALL she has and her individual risk factors.

Here’s the problem, though. The levels of chemo they give are as toxic as the kids can stand. They can’t just give more to make 80% become 100%. There’s no where to go. We need new therapies, hopefully kinder and quicker therapies.

So, we’re committing to everything that we possibly can this month. Any way we can help raise awareness or money, we’re doing it.

For example, Tanner is now officially a Rally Kid for the Rally Foundation for Childhood Cancer Research. Her picture and story appear on their web site at http://rallyfoundation.org/rallykids.php

It’s sobering to me to see her photo among all those stories of battling children. It seems a little too real. Tanner will also be a Rally Rock Princess (along with some other little girls with cancer) at the Rally Mania concert on September 26 at 5 pm at Carnton Plantation. The headliner is Eddie Money with special guest appearances from Kix Brooks, Jars of Clay, Ashley Cleveland, Jordan Pruitt from High School Musical, and many more. It’s a great place to bring a picnic and watch the concert. You can buy tickets at online at
http://www.ticketsnashville.com/WebSales/Pages/VenueListPage.aspx?rguid=7db8544a-97dd-4f7b-a007-60483427206c& or at the gate the day of.

Last year's Lemonade for Leukemia stand raised $259!

I’ll post in the coming days about other fun opportunities to help this month. But, I do want to dedicate a little space to our most important event of the month… Tanner’s lemonade sale tomorrow!!! Tanner and her friend, Corinne, will be holding a lemonade stand tomorrow from about 4 pm to 5:30 or 6 pm in Moore’s Landing subdivision off of Lewisburg Pike in Franklin. Come by if you’re in the area and buy some lemonade from the girls. They’re donating all the money to Team Tanner.

Speaking of Team Tanner… oh my gosh! It has been just 2 weeks and five days since I first posted about our efforts to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society’s Light the Night Walk on October 7. Our goal is $10,000. To date, we have raised more than $7,000. Really. We are humbled beyond humble and can’t thank everyone enough for such a great start to our campaign. People have been so amazing. Even the kids at our church are planning a Light the Night walk of their own and getting pledges for Team Tanner. They’re also having a bake sale and Tanner is doing a lemonade stand between services. If you still want to donate go to http://pages.lightthenight.org/tn/MidTN10/TeamTanner

I always say if one good thing comes out of this whole mess, it’s a firm belief in the goodness of people.

Love,
Beth

P.S. I have shamelessly plagiarized my childhood cancer statistics and info from my friend, Larisa. She, obviously, is much better read than I. I know she won’t care if I plagiarize as long as it makes a difference. She has as much at stake as I do.

Right Day, Wrong Year

August 6, 2010

It’s August 6 and I know I should be grateful that Tanner’s made it through 14 months of chemo and only has one year left, but I can’t help wishing it was August 6, 2011. Today marks exactly one year left of chemo treatment. Even Tanner didn’t know exactly how to feel about this.

John brought home a cake that said… “Go Tanner! One more year!” Tanner was happy for the cake, but at bedtime I asked her how she felt when I said that one year from today, she would stop chemo. “A little sad,” she said. “A year is a really long time.” See, “one more year” is not very inspiring. (see my “No More” post from last week)

So, we had a small celebration, not a huge one, and we’ll keep on keeping on.

Jake came home yesterday! Hurray for my little man being home! My parents brought him back and stayed the night and we spent the morning watching shows the kids did in the basement before they left to return home and get ready for some more grandchildren to show up at their house next week.

Tanner has some kind of weird cold virus that she is apparently fighting pretty well. She sounds lousy when she wakes up in the morning, but seems fine during the day and then feels a little bad again at bedtime.

We go in on Monday for another IVIg transfusion. IVIg is an immunoglobin transfusion that provides antibodies to help bolster her immune system. She had one back in February and it helped so much. She was catching one respiratory virus/infection after another and then once she had the transfusions, stayed pretty healthy the rest of the school year. I asked the doctor to check again before school started and, sure enough, her levels were even lower this time. Just didn’t think that was the best way to start the school year. She’s caught her fair share of colds/coughs/strep this summer and I think the infusion will help. It takes about three hours so we opted not to tack it on to her clinic day on Wednesday, since she is having her spinal that day and it is already a long day. So, transfusion Monday, clinic day Wednesday, first day of school Thursday. Busy week.

We’re going to let this day pass somewhat quietly… it’s the wrong year. August 6, 2011 though, look out. The celebration will be completely out of control.

Love,
Beth

Clinic Day #36 — Ever So Slowly

July 1, 2010

We went into clinic this morning for counts. I was expecting, after three weeks of being on 50% oral chemo dosage, for her counts to be well up above 1,000… but… no. 900. 900? That’s it? That’s only gaining 100 neutraphils per week… pretty slow, but I guess at least it’s in the right direction.

There is a theory that after a long time on chemo, the body develops bone marrow fatigue. As if to say, “Why should I bother to make any new cells, you’re just going to kill them?” Seems realistic to me.

So, we’re not quite ready to dine out in a restaurant again, but we’re not hibernating either. We’ll take it.

Been busy swimming a lot, playing with Domino and having playdates. Tanner’s friend, Meredith, came over yesterday for a “slumbover”… that’s when you have a friend over in the afternoon and they stay for dinner, you put on your pajamas and watch movies and they go home at bedtime. They had a super time.

Tanner got her birthday present a little early today (her birthday is July 8th). She wanted a new bike and we gave it to her today so she could ride it in the 4th of July parade in Franklin on Sunday. She opened up the garage door to go out and ride her scooter and just screamed in delight when she saw it… I love that.

Please pray for our little friend, Madelynn and her family. Madelynn is four and lives in our neighborhood and has ALL. She has just started maintenance and is experiencing the roller coaster that is the first months of this stage as they try to find the right dosage to keep her counts stable. Maintenance is such a dance; we’re still doing it. But, those first few months are very unstable. We were actually supposed to have a cookout with Madelynn’s family and Lily’s family last weekend and, ironically, had to cancel because Madelynn was in the hospital with low counts and a fever. Thankfully, it turned out to be a pretty benign virus and she got to come home pretty quickly. But, her counts continue to stay very low. I ran into her Mom, Amy, walking in the neighborhood early the other morning. We talked briefly about how disappointing it is to start maintenance… it seems like it should be so great, but it’s actually pretty rocky. It’s just a tough pill to swallow when you’ve waited for those first awful six months to be over.

Love,
Beth

1 Day to Domino

June 22, 2010

Tomorrow is Domino Day… long awaited and much anticipated. Tanner was so excited, she couldn’t go to sleep tonight (the steroids didn’t help, either!) and I find myself in the same position. We’ve been on a 10-day countdown on the chalkboard in the kitchen, and today the kids and I washed down our dog crate to get ready for the big day. John and I will go to the prison tomorrow to meet the inmates that trained Domino and bring him home. The kids made thank you notes for them today. Jake put Star Wars stickers all over them and Tanner made cut out stars. We hope they will let the inmates have them so they can remember what a good thing they have done for a little girl with leukemia and her family.

The kids have been at Vacation Bible School for the past few days. They are having such a good time. I’ve helped with crafts those two days as well and really had fun. Tomorrow is water fun day at VBS, so they are going to have a double-great day, between that and the dog.

We had a great weekend, too. Tanner has been on steroids and feeling some of the effects of the Vincristine, but she accepts it so well now and we know to just move on and it will get better. She can’t really take the heat (and it’s HOT here!) so water activities or indoor activities are the best bet. Saturday, when I came back from running errands, John, Tanner, Jake and four neighborhood kids were in the backyard on our new playground sliding down the slide into the baby pool at the bottom. They were having too much fun! It’s the simple things, right?

Sunday, we gave John a day off for Father’s Day… no simple task, I promise you. I had to practically run my poor workaholic husband out of the house for some much needed R&R. While he was gone, the kids and I went to the grocery store to buy ingredients for seafood gumbo, his favorite food. He came back at dinner time to posters on the door, made by the kids, a balloon, cards and gumbo. Happy man.

I have to tell you about something that happened on Friday that strengthened my belief in Tanner’s vast resolve and determination. She had chemo, if you remember, on Thursday at clinic – Vincristine through her port. Then, Thursday night’s medication concoction – 6mp (chemo), methotrexate (chemo), neurontin (for neuropathy), mepron (antibiotic to prevent pneumonia), amoxicillin (antibiotic for strep throat), Claritin (for allergies), dexamethasone (steroids), pepsid and zofran (for nausea). Good grief! I expected her to be down for the count on Friday. She woke up a little groggy, but after running some errands in the morning, we headed to the YMCA pool for a swim. We got there and Tanner decided she wanted to take the swim test that would allow her to go down the slides and climb the rock wall.

“Today?” I said. “Why don’t we do it another day?”

“No, I want to do it now,” she said.

The lifeguard showed her what she had to do and my chemo-ridden child jumped in the pool and swam the length without stopping or touching the bottom and pulled herself out on the side. The lifeguard and Jake and I cheered her on from the side, following her as she swam down the pool. She looked, at the end, as if she might give up, but stuck it out. I couldn’t have been prouder. I looked at the lifeguard with disbelief and said, “She has cancer and had a boatload of chemo yesterday.” He bent down and told her “Way to go!”

We were putting on sunscreen later and I told her how proud of her I was. Of course, I teared up. Tanner’s response… “Thank goodness you didn’t do that in front of the lifeguard.” Cue eye rolling.

So, we’ve had fun despite the low counts and the steroids and chemo. It beats the alternative, right?

On a more sobering note, please pray for the family (including the twin) of a little girl named Ellie, whose poor cancer-ravaged lungs will not last much longer. Her mother, just days ago, was blogging how she was not ready to give up on a miracle and was still encouraging Ellie to fight. Today, I read where this same mother has not only had to accept the inevitable for her daughter, but has courageously swallowed her own grief to try to help her daughter accept her fate as well. Imagine trying to assure an 8-year-old that it is all right to die now. Cancer is heartless.

Love,
Beth