An Army for Hope

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.

Love,
Beth

Clinic Day #46

January 28, 2010

Clinic went pretty well today. She panicked at the LP as usual, but did resign herself to it in the end. She tucked her head under my chin, closed her eyes and said, “Night Night, Mommy” in a tiny little voice. Thank God there’s only one more.

Her counts were ideal at 1180. That means no increases in chemo, thankfully.

She has not felt well this afternoon. Her stomach is really upset. She finally fell asleep at 9 pm with a bucket next to her bed just in case. Still managed to go outside and play with the neighbor kids, though. I wanted to crawl into bed by 2 pm… I don’t understand how she does it.

Speaking of tired… I am.

Goodnight,
Beth

Alice in Wonderland

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!).

Daisy Mae joined our family officially on Saturday… she’s our official adopted dog and she’s doing great. The kids adore her… especially Jake.

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!

Love,
Beth

Spent the Day at the Hospital

January 5, 2011

As we suspected, we did end up at the hospital today. We made it through the night with no fever, but Tanner woke up with no improvement in the neck pain, coughing and feeling bad. While we were waiting to be seen, I noticed she had developed a lacy rash on her arms and neck. I actually felt relieved about that because it meant that she probably had a virus as opposed to swollen lymph nodes because of reasons I can’t even bring myself to write.

The doctor agreed that she probably has some kind of virus and has tested her for all viruses, but specifically for Epstein Barr and Parvo Virus. Epstein Barr is the virus that leads to monolucleiosis for some people, but not all. Parvo is commonly called Fifth’s Disease or Slapped Cheeks because it can cause red cheeks and is accompanied by a lacy rash. Neither will be a great situation as both viruses are known to compromise bone marrow and can cause anemia. In the normal person, their bone marrow can compensate and regenerate quickly. Tanner’s will not. If she has either of these viruses, her counts will likely drop across the board and necessitate blood and platelet transfusions and bottom out her neutraphils. It would take a while for her body to recover. The results of the virus panels will not come back for a few days.

Waiting for an antibody transfusion

Dr. Mixan decided to give her an IVIG transfusion. This is an antibody transfusion that might help her recover from this virus. The effect of an IVIG transfusion is not proven on ALL patients, but anecdotally, it has helped Tanner in the past. She is almost always low on the IgG antibody, but we usually don’t transfuse until she’s below 400 (600 is the low side of normal for a kid her age). She was at 481 today, but we thought it might help. Unfortunately, it has a common side effect of nasty headaches for a few days. Tanner had one last time (this is her third IVIG transfusion) so I’m waiting for that shoe to drop.

Tanner cried today thinking she might not get to go to Alice in Wonderland rehearsal on Friday night or her first Annie rehearsal Saturday. I’m hoping she’ll get to be in the plays at all.

She cried a lot today. About going to the hospital this morning, about being “sick,” about possibly missing things. She is just so sick of all of this. I want to hug her and comfort her and tell her I understand, but unfortunately, I think it doesn’t help her be strong… and she needs to be strong. We reminded her today that everyone gets sick, not just people with leukemia, and that this isn’t that big of a deal. But, I think she is smart enough to know that when “normal” kids get sick, they don’t have to go to the hospital and have blood drawn and get transfusions. As always, though, she bucked up and is holding it together, at least for now.

Please, please send good thoughts or pray or whatever you do that this is just a bump in the road and not a break down that will cause her to miss lots of school and these plays she so desperately wants to do.

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 #44

December 1, 2010

Tanner went in for her monthly clinic visit today to get Vincristine in her port. Her counts were high (too high, really) at 3,500. Dr. Mixan doesn’t know why, but per protocol, we will wait a few months to see if she comes back down before raising her chemo above 100%.

Tanner has been to clinic 5 times in the last month. During maintenance, we typically go once a month, but for counts checks, flu shot study and a fever, we happened to be there a lot last month. This morning, she just started to cry when I told her it was time to get dressed for clinic. I hugged her and told her I wished we didn’t have to go and helped her get dressed. We dropped Jake at Aunt Beth’s house and went to the hospital.

The clinic visit went very smoothly, but Tanner kept telling me the whole time that her stomach hurt and she didn’t think she could go back to school. Then, when I thought for a brief time she might make it back for recess, she rallied and was excited to go back. But, when we got in the car, I looked at the clock and there was no way to make it to recess. Tanner started yelling at me in this desperate voice, “Just drive really fast. Don’t stop for lunch. Just get me there… just GET ME THERE!”

I didn’t say a thing. What could I say? I knew it wasn’t just about recess. It was about missing things in general. Going to the hospital to get poked and get chemo while your brother spends a fun filled day at Aunt Beth’s house and your classmates get to go out for recess. Not for the first time, nor the only time. For the 60th or 70th time.

The car got very quiet and I could hear her sniffling in the back seat. I wanted to say something comforting, but I don’t know any more comforting words. I’m fresh out. “Don’t worry, we’ll just be doing this 20 more times or so for 9 more months and
THEN we’ll be done.” Yes, that would be cheerful.

Then, she told me she was sorry she yelled at me and asked me how much longer she would have to do this. “Nine months,” I said, quietly. She just began to cry and said, “I wish I was someone else.”

Again, no words of comfort. She had given up and so had I. It’s just too long sometimes. Too much behind us and too much ahead. She’s doing so well and I know I should be grateful, but I don’t feel that way lately. I just feel tired and ready to not worry about all of this.

I ended up letting her stay home the rest of the day. I just couldn’t muster up enough momminess to encourage her to go back. I’m sad for her, but in this numb kind of way where I seem paralyzed to do much to help.

I realize this post is a big downer, but if I’m being truthful, these days are just as much a part of the journey as the celebratory ones or the tragically sad ones. In between are these numb ones where caring about all of this seems like a lot to ask. Leukemia is an exhausting disease that could wear anyone down. I know we will make it to the end; even on a day like today I have no doubt of that. I know we are strong enough to endure. But, I also know that there will be battle scars that never heal as a result. For all of us. And some days, I mourn those scars and question why this had to happen at all.

Love,
Beth

I Come Home, Tanner Goes to the Hospital

November 17, 2010

As I was on my knees fastidiously de-radiating my friend, Kim’s house so I could go home to my family, John and Tanner were on their way to the hospital with a fever. The cough she had been fighting all week finally peaked and she was up to 102 degrees. John was able to skip the ER and go straight to clinic (much faster). Fortunately, her fever came down and her counts were high enough that they were able to come home after an IV round of Rocefin (a broad-range antibiotic).

She took a big nap yesterday afternoon, but was feeling fine by bedtime, despite some coughing during the night. We kept her home from school today, but we all went in for her Thanksgiving play and Thanksgiving lunch (I didn’t stay for lunch as I am still not clear to use regular non-throwaway utensils). The play was cute and she is feeling fine. I think she will be able to return to school tomorrow.

The bumped up chemo has done it’s job. Her neutraphils were at 1,150, which is about perfect for maintenance. Her hemoglobin and platelets, however, are holding strong, which is all great. Hopefully, they won’t drop any more and she can just stay at this perfect spot.

While she and John were at the hospital, they met some Titans – Mark Mariani (L) and Robert Johnson (R) – who were visiting kids in the infusion room. Tanner looks like a little sapling between two mighty oaks, huh?

I’m feeling just fine… a little tiny bit fatigued, but otherwise back to my normal self. I can be around the kids, but can’t touch them much. No more than 30 minutes of contact a day until the day after Thanksgiving. I get quick hugs to try to sustain me.

John’s Mom is on duty and has been a great help. She’ll get Jake to school tomorrow while I go into Vanderbilt for my body scan. This should tell us whether the cancer had spread anywhere beyond the thyroid. I have to lie still for an hour-and-a-half. Let’s hope I can listen to an ipod… otherwise it’s going to be a very long scan. Maybe I’ll nod off…

Speaking of nodding off…

Love,
Beth

On Its Way Out

I think the radiation is definitely on its way out. I feel much better today after several days of mild malaise and fatigue. Even stopped by the house today to pick up Domino and take him for a walk. The walk was tiring, but it felt good to get moving and be outside. I think my friend Kim is going to come home to find a permanent indention in her new sofa in the shape of my heiney. I’ve read two books and watched countless movies and even gotten a few (a very few) things done.

Mostly, I miss my family. John and the kids seem to be doing great, but I know it is unsettling for the kids to keep having me drop out of sight while I recover from the surgeries or now while I am hiding my glow from them. Tanner still doesn’t know I have cancer, but I think she is smart enough to figure out that it’s somewhat serious and it makes her anxious. But, mostly I think they just miss their mommy… and I miss them. Still, I think John has really enjoyed his time with them.

I’ll come home Tuesday. Even though I can’t touch the kids more than 30 minutes cumulatively each day, I can at least be around them by then and I can help. And, I can get hugs, even if they’re quick. That will feel good.

I go back to Vanderbilt Thursday for a body scan to see how effective the treatment has been and determine if the cancer had spread anywhere outside the thyroid. If it had, the cancerous tissue would have absorbed the radioactive iodine and it would show up on the scan. I think I have to lie still for 1 ½ hours (can you say, “Nap?”).

I ended my low iodine diet today at dinner time. John and the kids did a “drive by” and brought me Jets pizza, some candy and a cake in the shape of a turkey that says, “Glow, Mama, Glow.” I laughed out loud. Jake was so cute bringing me the candy. He put it on the ground and backed away from me and said, “You’re done with your diet!!!!” Sweet thing. It killed me not to be able to give him a big hug.

Tanner has her Annie callback tomorrow night. She seems to have gotten over her cold and cough pretty much, so I think her voice is back in singing form. I wish I could go so badly, but I’ll just have to get a report from Daddy.

Thanks for all the well wishes. People have been so nice… as always.

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

Big News

October 26, 2010

Some exciting news has come our way this week… Tanner has been named the 2011 “Girl of the Year” for the Tennesee Chapter of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society!!! What an honor! We’re so proud of her.

What does this mean? It means that the 14 or so candidates for Man of the Year and Woman of the Year will be raising funds in honor of Tanner and the Boy of the Year, Jack Woods. The kids will be LLS ambassadors at parties and events for the fund-raising campaign and even appear in ads. Tanner positively lit up when I asked her if she wanted to do it. Her duties will begin sometime in January and end in June.

Thank you all for supporting her during the Light the Night walk. Our unprecedented success as a “friends and family” team definitely played a huge role in Tanner receiving this honor.

Another piece of news is that I am starting my low iodine diet Thursday in preparation for receiving a radioactive iodine treatment in a few weeks… ugghhh. This radiation treatment is a pill that I take at the hospital and then I can’t be around anyone for five days (and the kids for eight days) while my body is ridding itself of the excess radiation. The iodine is absorbed into any remaining thyroid tissue, along with the radiation, and the idea is that it kills any remaining thyroid tissue, hopefully decreasing the chance of cancer recurrence. Thyroid cancer can recur at any time, even 20 or 30 years later, so I will be tested every year for the rest of my life, essentially. I’m actually relieved that they recommended the radiation… I just want to get rid of this stuff.

Once again, John will have to do it all… work, take care of the house and take care of the kids. I feel so helpless that he will have to do all this… again. I know I have said it before, but I will say it again… cancer sucks.

The low iodine diet is interesting. Since most salt we use in the U.S. is iodized, almost all processed foods are prohibited. No soy, dairy, seafood of any kind, etc. It made for an interesting shopping trip. Thank God for my friend, Beth. She spent all day yesterday baking bread, rolls, muffins and crackers for me from the thyroid cancer cookbook so that I wouldn’t have to survive without carbs for the next two weeks. Who has friends like this? I figure with bread and salt-free natural peanut butter, anyone can make it.

We’ve had a good week so far. Tanner’s energy seems to be back full force and she and Jake are amped for Halloween. Next week, she has a lumbar puncture with chemo injection, so that is looming over our heads, but we are trying not to think about it too much.

Tanner’s school is doing “Pennies for Patients” again in her honor. It’s a LLS fund-raising campaign where kids bring in change from home to benefit LLS. Moore Elementary continues to support our family in ways we never imagined.

I’m going to relish my last day of processed food tomorrow. I’ll miss pizza most, but diet coke is allowed, so I’ll make it!

Love,
Beth