Clinic Day #27

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January 28, 2010

Apparently Tanner will be going back to school!!!!!! Hoooooooooorayyyyyyyyy!!!!! We’ll meet with the school next week to iron out any special considerations she will need, let her get over the steroids she started taking today, and start her out on Monday, February 8th. Unbelievable. Really unbelievable.

Clinic obviously went well today, although very long. Her counts were actually quite high… too high. They were 3,300. They should be between 1,000 and 2,000, but the doctor said he wanted to see how she did this next month before he would raise it. Whew! Weird to be hoping for lower counts, but we are. I’ll take the high counts for now, though. It means her immune system will be that much stronger to fight off the school germs.

They also removed all of her eating restrictions. Tanner was almost as excited about that as she was about school. She started yelling out all the things she wanted to eat, “Salad? Grapes? Strawberries! I want strawberries!!!” It was so cute.

After all that excitement, we sat… and sat… and sat… in a very full infusion room waiting for chemo. After an hour or more, the nurse came out to tell us they had misplaced Tanner’s chemo roadmap and they couldn’t order her chemo without it. “An actual physical piece of paper? There’s no electronic file with her two-and-a-half year roadmap in it?” Apparently not. They finally found it behind the filing cabinet and ordered her chemo. More waiting… and waiting. We finally left four hours after we got there; two-and-a-half hours of which was spent waiting for a chemo push that took all of 3 minutes once it got there. You never know with clinic.

Tanner left clinic with her grandmother and they went to see Alvin and the Chipmunks. Then, home for some wii with Jake, dinner and the Make A Wish Interview.

She decided she wanted her wish to be Disney World (secret applause). We looked at Disney World and Disney Land yesterday on the Internet and she saw how much better Disney World was and decided to head to Florida instead of California. I swear I didn’t sway her (well, maybe just a little); I just pointed out that if she wanted to meet the stars of a Disney show, we could probably go to Disneyland as well. She wanted to see it online, then we clicked over to Disney World (that might be the part where I swayed her) and saw some awesome videos of the different parks. iCarly apparently cannot compete with the Magic Kingdom, Typhoon Lagoon and Animal Kingdom. Not to mention that you get to stay in the Give Kids the World village, which is just for wish kids. It has ice cream all day, Christmas every week, present fairies that leave presents under your pillow every night, and a Mayor that’s a rabbit. Seriously. I’m so excited because this is something for Jake, too. Although no one has gone through what Tanner has, Jake is affected by all this and deserves something special.

So, it was a long, but very special, day. I’m going to bed to dream about sending my daughter off to her first day back to school.

Love,
Beth

My Sweet Boy

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January 27, 2010

Tonight, as I was putting Jake to bed, we did our usual “Now I lay me down to sleep…” prayer. We follow that with a general blessing for friends and family and then we do “special blessings.” Jake asked for blessings for his booty (see my previous post this evening) and for God to help him poop in the potty so he could get two blue race cars (I’m not making this up).

Then, I said, “Let’s pray that when Tanner goes to the doctor tomorrow, he says she can go back to school.”

Jake paused and said, “I not want her to go to school.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“She my best fwiend,” he answered.

“You would miss her?” I said.

“Yes.”

Yummy, yummy boy.

Love,
Beth

Both Ends

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January 27, 2010

Tonight, after Tanner’s lesson with Mrs. O’Hara, we decided to go to Chili’s to eat. John was at a work dinner and we were on our own. Tanner loves Chili’s; she’s always trying to connive some way to get us there to eat. So, we piled happily into the car and drove down the road for dinner.

While we were waiting for our food, Tanner kept saying how hungry she was. “When will our food be here?” she asked repeatedly. When it got there, it was piping hot and I began to stir Jake’s Mac n’ Cheese so it would cool off. I looked over at Tanner and asked if she needed help cutting her chicken, but she was staring off into space and didn’t respond. I watched her for a moment; she looked exhausted. “T… you okay?” I asked. “Fine,” she said. “I just need honey mustard.”

Between the time I asked the waitress for honey mustard and the time she brought it, I watched Tanner go downhill. The waitress set the honey mustard on the table and Tanner simply lay down on my coat in the booth without a word. I knew she couldn’t eat it. It was a moment lost.

Jake and I ate as quickly as we could, boxed Tanner’s food up and left without her ever eating a bite.

Now, it may seem ridiculous to care so much about one chicken dinner in the light of some of the truly awful things she has had to face over the past 8 months, but it’s just that it is such a metaphor for life with cancer. Get excited, look forward, anticipate… be disappointed. Watch everyone else around you get the thing you wanted so badly while you remember that’s it’s not for you… you have cancer.

She handled it better than I did, really. I cried about it later, which is so uncanny, because I almost never cry about cancer. It just seemed so unfair. Such a simple thing to want.

Anyway, the rest of the night went according to Murphy’s law. I carried Tanner into the house with her hand over her mouth, rushing to the bathroom, while Jake screamed from the car where it was parked in the driveway in the dark, “I’m cared! Mommy help!” Park Tanner in front of the toilet, run back out to get Jake. Set up Tanner on the sofa with a bucket and a towel. Frantically mix up some zofran to prevent nausea. Give Tanner the medicine while Jake hangs on to me screaming because the constipation he has been suffering from finally decides to give way. Clean up (nuff said). Carry Tanner to bed, dinnerless. Put Jake to bed, a pound or two lighter. Collapse.

Usually I only recognize the humor in this kind of situation in the retelling, but this was so ludicrous that I even started laughing in the midst of it. It wasn’t a cancer moment; it was just a motherhood moment, one that moms everywhere could appreciate.

Tomorrow is clinic day. John and I are anxious. Anxious that they will raise her chemo level. Anxious that she won’t get released to school. Anxious that she will get released to school and be exposed to all those germs.

Please pray for the right thing… whatever that may be.

Love,
Beth

Big Things

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January 26, 2010

We spent Saturday night at one of our favorite places with some of our favorite people. We went to the circus!!! I LOVE the circus. I would go if I didn’t have kids and so would John. I had put it on our calendar a month or more before, but was struggling with whether it was safe to take Tanner into that crowd of people. It’s one thing to be at a restaurant with other people in the next booth, it’s another to sit with people who may or may not be healthy on all sides of you.

John’s company, Franklin American Mortgage Company, made the decision easy. They gave us their suite so we could go without worry and invite friends, too. We had an awesome time with two other families. It’s a big thing for Tanner to be able to do something like this… and Jake, too. We realized at the Circus that Jake has experienced a lot less than Tanner at the same age because he’s been sheltered due to our situation. He was super excited!!! We all laughed at him because he just kept jumping up and down and screaming at random moments because he was so happy.

Thursday night will be another big night. Two representatives from Make a Wish are coming to interview Tanner about her wish. She is so excited, but very conflicted. She really thought she wanted to go to Disney World, but now wants to maybe meet the cast of one of her favorite TV shows and ask to be in an episode. Decisions, decisions. I was hoping for Disney, but whatever she wants will be fine. I just want it to be special for her. It will be interesting to see what she comes up with.

And, Thursday morning is clinic day. It has, unbelievably, been a month since we have been to the hospital. Surreal. She will get a dose of Vincristine in her port and see the doctor. She also starts her monthly five-day steroid pulse.

We are hoping her counts have remained between 1,000 and 2,000 so that they don’t raise her chemo levels. No more chemo, please. Also, if her counts have remained steady, maybe they will clear her to go back to school.

John’s Mom, Ann, is coming with us to clinic on Thursday and then taking Tanner to the movies afterwards. They are going to spend the day together. Tanner is super excited.

Tanner continues to feel really good most of the time. She has periodic nausea and body pains and fatigues more easily than normal, but mostly seems like any six-year-old. Still, the chemo is there. She got sick yesterday morning for no apparent reason that I could figure except the chemo. Weird since Tanner only got sick twice during all the chemo she has received. But, a reminder that even in maintenance, the chemo is still there, still poisonous, still eating at her.

Still, I’ll take maintenance over the past six months any day. The freedom that it brings, the ability for Tanner to regain strength and stamina. The possibility of school and friends.

Big Things… Good Things… Hopeful Things.

Love,
Beth

School Spirit

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January 18, 2010

Last week, Tanner, Jake and I went to Tanner’s school so Tanner could take a literacy test. It was the first time we had stepped foot in the school during school hours since Tanner was diagnosed. We were headed to Mrs. O’Hara’s room (Mrs. O’Hara is Tanner’s homebound teacher and she is AMAZING!) She is a reading teacher so she doesn’t have a ton of kids in her room at once and had us come in during her break so Tanner wouldn’t have to share the room with other kids.

We also planned on putting some money into the Pennies for Patients jars that the school has out in the front of the school. Pennies for Patients is a Leukemia and Lymphoma Society fundraiser for schools and Moore is in the midst of a pocket change campaign in Tanner’s honor. There was a poster of Tanner and five large water jugs full of change, one for each grade. They are having a contest to see which grade raises the most money. Tanner put her change into the first grade jug while Mrs. Green, the principal, snapped pictures.

The week before, the school had announced the campaign with a special announcement in the morning and a showing of a Charlie Brown movie about a little girl with leukemia. It’s a great movie that shows kids what it’s like for a child with leukemia and prepares them for hair loss, absences, etc. So, now, everyone knows who Tanner is. (I’m pretty certain there’s only one bald girl at her school.) As we walked the halls to make our way to Mrs. O’Hara’s room, we passed lots of classes on their way to lunch. You could see the kids react as they realized who Tanner was. They waved, they said, “Hi Tanner,” and a kindergartner even whispered to her, “I gave you a dollar!” Tanner and I laughed because he thought she was getting the money.

A very earnest fourth grade girl stopped in the hallway and said, very sweetly, “I’m sorry you got Leukemia. I hope you feel better soon.” Kids never cease to amaze me with their beautiful honesty.

Tanner was a little puzzled at first by all the attention, but anyone who knows Tanner knows that she loves her some attention, so she was in her element. I was proud of her poise in light of how many kids she didn’t even know were waving at her and smiling and looking at her. She held up beautifully.

A really special moment was when we saw Mrs. Wood and got to meet her fourth grade class. She and her class have been extremely kind to Tanner and they really wanted to meet her. They leave her messages on her blog and two little girls are growing out their hair so they can donate it to Locks of Love in Tanner’s honor. Locks of Love makes wigs for kids who have cancer. They pulled their ponytail holders out to show us how long their hair had gotten. (Thanks Emma and Maggie!)

We’ve been getting wonderful packages all along from the school. Tanner’s class and many others have made sure that she knows she is missed. But, it was entirely another thing for Tanner to be able to feel that love first hand. I have no doubt that we made the right decision about keeping her at Moore after we move and continuing there next year. We are grateful to the school district for allowing us to do that. It will assure that she feels supported and nurtured.

The school also had a used book fair that day and Tanner really wanted to go. I waffled, thinking of how many people would be in a fairly small space. While we had seen a lot of kids on the way in and out of school, we hadn’t really touched anyone and had kept a safe distance. But, I just didn’t want to rain on such a great experience and decided we would risk the book fair. While we were waiting our turn to go into the room, a whole class of what looked to be third graders were in front of us. One little girl turned around and recognized Tanner. It was like a game of “telephone” after that, each kid turning to the next and whispering, “That’s Tanner Page! Do you see her?” They waved, smiled and were extremely sweet. After several minutes, Tanner motioned for me to bend over so she could whisper in my ear. “I think I might be famous,” she said with a look of disbelief. “I think you might be,” I agreed.

A huge thank you to Moore Elementary School for everything they are doing to make Tanner feel special and to prepare the other kids for her arrival. We are so grateful for the money the kids are raising to help find a better way to treat blood cancers. One parent told me her kids are doing chores to earn money so they can put it in the jug. Mrs. Franklin, Tanner’s classroom teacher, has graciously allowed us to invade her class by computer, which I know is somewhat distracting, but we really appreciate it. We hope this week at clinic, they might give her the go-ahead to return to school. She’s ready and cannot wait.

Love,
Beth

Two Doors Down

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January 23, 2010

Three women who didn’t know each other 8 months ago sat in a booth at a restaurant and shared secrets they didn’t dare tell anyone else. They shared heartache others can’t understand, and information others don’t need to know. They cried tears of laughter and anguish. They shared a bond both wonderful and terrible. Their young daughters have leukemia; three beautiful girls with a grueling disease that tests their mothers’ stamina and will.

They were glad to be there, but at the same time, wished they weren’t.

Larisa, Amy and I went to dinner at 6:30 and didn’t leave the restaurant until 11 pm. We had much to share and formed a reluctant sisterhood of sorts over pasta and wine. We talked about the odd coincidence of circumstances that brought us together. When Tanner was diagnosed with leukemia, Larisa’s daughter, Lily, was in the hospital with an infection during the Delayed Intensification phase of treatment. A mutual friend emailed me and said I needed to meet them; they were just two doors down from us in the hospital. I remembered my friend talking about Lily. She had showed me a painting a month before that she was doing for Lily’s at-home classroom. I remember thinking how devastating it would be to have a child with leukemia and prayed for her that night. Now, here we were. Lily and Larisa came down the hall the next morning, bringing Lily’s Garden bracelets and soaps and a sweet note Lily wrote for Tanner. I still have it. It says, “This is hard, but I know you can do it. DI is the hardest part.” It is written in red crayon. I also still wear the lavender Lily’s Garden bracelet; I haven’t ever taken it off.

When they stopped by our room, Tanner was in bed, literally panting in pain. I stepped into the hallway so as not to disturb her and knelt down to talk with Lily. She had the face of an angel framed on a sweet, bare head. I told her that Tanner was getting her port put in that day and Lily lifted up her shirt, unceremoniously, so that I could see hers. Larisa gave me a pink sheet of paper, which I also still have, with her name, numbers and email address and an offer to contact her whenever for whatever.

About 2 weeks later, she became a lifeline for John and I. When I called her to ask if Tanner was ever going to go back to being herself after the steroids, she assured me she would. She said it would take about 3 days for her personality to start to show up and she was right. Since then, we’ve become friends and so have Tanner and Lily. We don’t see each other that often, but I know she is a phone call or email away if I need an understanding ear or have a question for someone who has been there.

Five months later, Tanner was in her first month of DI and on her second hospital stay for that month. She had pneumonia, and on about day 8 of our 10-day stay, I got a facebook message from a friend who said a church member’s daughter had just been diagnosed with leukemia and was in the room just two doors down from us. I went down immediately and found them gone to surgery. I left a note with my name, phone number and email and an offer to contact me whenever for whatever. The next day, we met Alex in the 6th floor lobby. Tanner and I met Amy later that day when she stopped in the doorway to say hello. I remember seeing her 3 weeks later, on Thanksgiving morning, coming out of Kroger carrying a bag of bagel bites for a steroid-crazed child and assuring her that she would get her daughter back 3 days after stopping steroids. I recognized the terror in her face as my own when she tried to believe me.

Over dinner tonight, Amy said she, too, had prayed for us before her daughter Madelyn was diagnosed. The mother of a little girl in Tanner’s class at school had lifted her up in Sunday School, a class of which Amy and Alex are members.

Larisa said there had been a “two doors down” family for her, too. Unfortunately, their story ended sadly.

We joked tonight about starting a “two doors down” club for people to pay forward what has been given to them by another, and to share the wealth of medical information that means nothing to most, but everything to a very few.

Thanks, girls. I needed both the laugh and the cry. And, I’m glad we have each other, even though we wish we didn’t have to.

Love,
Beth

Music to My Ears

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January 19, 2010

“She is functioning completely normally for a six-year-old girl.”

Wow! I had thought Tanner’s physical strength had improved tremendously over the past month, but never dreamed the physical therapist would say she doesn’t need any therapy. She actually said she was looking for ways to challenge Tanner because her coordination, balance and strength were so good.

You really don’t have any idea how relieved I am. Not just because she didn’t need therapy, but because there is a part of me that has wondered in my darkest place, whether Tanner would ever be physically strong, the way she was before, again. There are so many potential long-term side effects to the medications that Tanner is taking. I don’t worry about them in the front of my mind; they are buried somewhere deep in the place I just can’t go. It’s too much to try to worry about what could happen; what does happen is tough enough to stomach. But, I personally know kids who have avascular necrosis (bone death) and mental processing problems due to the chemo, so I’m certainly aware of the potential problems. There’s also long-term metabolism issues, long term nerve damage, etc., etc., etc.

So, to remove one worry from the dark place makes a little more room for light and hope.

Tanner is strong. Her muscle tone is returning to her legs and arms. She no longer looks like she belongs in an ad for a starving child in a faraway country. She can skip and hop on one leg, walk on a balance beam backwards and do a sit up from upside down. Amazing. It’s wonderful not to think of her as being so fragile.

I have a hard time looking at other kids sometimes without feeling somewhat resentful. They are athletic and bouncy. They have a glow about them and color to their skin. It’s been hard to believe that Tanner would ever look like that again. She still has a way to go. She’s still very pale and low on stamina; I suspect she’ll be that way until August 6, 2011, when this journey will come to an end. But, she no longer looks sickly. And, that’s a relief.

Normal for a six-year-old child. Music to my ears.

Love,
Beth

So Normal I Forgot to Blog

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January 18, 2010

It’s weird for things to feel this normal, but they do. Tanner went to dance class today for the first time since her dance recital, two weeks prior to being diagnosed in spring. Aside from the hair thing, she looked like any other little girl busting a move in hip-hop class. She seemed a little tentative going into the class, but when I picked her up, looked like she was having her normal good time.

Last night, she went to Sunday night youth time at church. She was a little like a celebrity. “Tanner’s here!” they screamed. They’ve prayed for her for so long that it seemed unreal to them that she was there.

I was so proud of her. She marched in confidently, despite the fact that many of the kids had never seen her without hair. We practiced ahead of time what to do if kids stared. We’ve talked about how staring isn’t necessarily bad; it just means someone is curious. And, frankly, she’s gotten somewhat used to kids staring at her in the grocery store. So, she said, “Stare at me.” I stared, obligingly, mouth hanging open the way I’ve seen kids do. She smiled, looked me in the eye and said, “I’m Tanner. The medicine I take made my hair fall out, but it’s coming back and I think it’s going to be brown and curly.” Goodness gracious, who couldn’t smile back at that? We high-fived and I knew she would be okay.

I love her confidence. Some of it is just her; some of it is that, over time, she has found that people are extraordinarily kind about her having leukemia. Kids, although they obviously have the capacity to be cruel, are so honest that I think it doesn’t take them but a minute to get over Tanner’s bald head and just move on to the business of playing. She has really only had one negative experience, and oddly, I’m glad she had it. We were at an indoor play area the other day and a little girl approached her to play. She was only 4 (all the kids Tanner’s age are in school) and she just very straightforwardly asked Tanner, “What happened to your hair?” Tanner told her that she takes medicine that makes her hair fall out, but it was growing back. The little girl shrugged and grabbed Tanner’s hand and said, “Let’s play.” Awesome, I thought. Kids are amazing. Five minutes later, Tanner came to me and said the little girl was being mean to her. I told her to avoid her and play with Jake, but in a moment I noticed the little girl had trapped Jake at the top of a playhouse and wouldn’t let him down. Tanner was telling her to move and the little girl said, “No one would want to be your friend, anyway.” Tanner began to cry and I firmly told the little girl to move out of Jake’s way and to stop being so mean. Her Mom ended up apologizing to me and sent the little girl to apologize to Tanner, which she did, very sweetly. BUT, she then asked her mom whether the little boy could go to eat with them. Tanner looked at me in confusion. The mom said, “Honey, she’s a girl.” The little girl could not be dissuaded and insisted Tanner was a boy. Tanner was crushed, but I cheerfully explained that Tanner was a girl with short hair and poked Tanner and laughed. She started laughing, too and we ended up okay.

I don’t know why that little girl was so mean to Tanner; but I know that Tanner believes it’s because she’s bald. In the car on the way home, she asked if she looked like a boy. No one with such a beautiful face could ever look like a boy, I told her. It wasn’t the best experience, but it was bound to happen and I was glad it happened while I was with her. I think she will be better prepared next time (I’m sure there will be one). We talked about how Jake thinks men with long hair are girls and how that little girl was too young to understand that a girl could have short hair. I was glad there was a positive resolution; she and the little girl parted friends and Tanner seemed okay with it.

As I have discovered when you are living with cancer in your family, you don’t feel normal for long. Tanner was exhausted when she got home from church last night and seemed very tired this morning. We were supposed to go ride bikes and play at a friend’s and Tanner agreed that maybe it would be best that she stay home and rest while Jake and I went. That’s how you know she’s really tired. Tanner is almost always up to play and will play until she literally cannot play anymore. So, she spent lots of time watching TV and took a little nap before dance class. She seemed much more rested at the end of the day.

Jake and Friends

Tanner seems to feel really good most of the time, but she does not have great stamina. She tires out much sooner than she used to and we’re trying to learn when to stop her before she gets completely exhausted. She has gotten sick after overdoing it, so we need to watch her carefully and not leave it up to her entirely whether she participates in something or not. Makes me realize how tiring school will be for her when she does get to back. We will probably have to do half days for a while and see how it goes.

We’ve spent lots of time on the new house this week; it’s fun to see something start to come together after having been in the demolition stage for the past three weeks! This is a house we can stay in a long time and we’re trying to do it right the first time so there have been a lot of decisions to make. It hasn’t really been stressful, though. We have great people working for us and I think we’ve both learned what real stress is the past six months or so, so it doesn’t seem worth getting too worked up over light fixtures and faucets. We’ll post some before and after pictures when there is an “after.”

Love,
Beth

Bit by Bit…

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January 12, 2010

Tanner and Meredith... silly!

I have been trying to take Tanner to see the Princess and the Frog for more than a month. Either her counts were low, she was sick, Jake was sick and home from school or it snowed and Jake was home. Finally, today, we got to go.

We dropped Jake off at school and then ran a few errands, picked up a bagel, and headed to the theater. We were a little late and were really hurrying to get into the theater when I noticed Tanner skipping. Not awkwardly, not lurching to will her body forward and upward, not with one leg having to be slung along to cooperate… just skipping. I caught her reflection in the window of the restaurant we were passing and thought she could have been another child – one without cancer. I said, “Look at you skip, girl!” and she laughed and began running – fast and hard and with joy that she could.

She’s getting so much stronger. She no longer has that emaciated, fragile look she had even a month ago. Her legs look stronger and she is able to walk up stairs without holding onto the rail, get herself off the floor without using her hands and jump rope again.

She’ll hopefully start physical therapy soon to capitalize on this period of time that we have, before she is able to go back to school, to really try to build back some of the strength she has lost. Until now, we didn’t think she had any real chance to make a gain with physical therapy. Any gain she made would have been wiped out by the intense chemo and steroids she was taking. But, now, she has a chance to build some strength that I think she can actually hang on to.

We had a great time at the movie and went to pick up Jake at school. Usually Tanner sits in the car while I go into the church to pick Jake up. I bring in hand sanitizer and soak Jake to his elbows before we get into the car. Today, I let Tanner come in with me. It was the first time she had seen Jake’s classroom or met his teacher after having dropped him off and picked him up from school nearly every week since August. We stood in the doorway and when Jake saw her, he screamed, “Tanner!!!” and ran into her arms. He buried his face in her chest and then looked up to say in disbelief, “You’re here!” Even a two-year-old could recognize a special moment.

When we got home, Tanner’s friend Meredith came to play. Meredith was in Tanner’s Kindergarten class and is also in the 1st grade class she’ll enter when she’s cleared to go to school. The girls put on countless shows, dressed up and played Wii. She had a great time.

It’s so nice to be able to do these things… and to feel like we’re headed for more good things… school, a birthday party, a family vacation.

We still used the hand sanitizer, though. No sense in getting crazy.

Love,
Beth

What a Great Weekend

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January 11, 2010

Tanner modeling my new coat

It was the most fun and normal-feeling weekend we have had in a long time. Saturday morning Tanner’s homebound teacher, Mrs. O’Hara came and they had a great session. Then, Jessica came and stayed with the kids until the afternoon while John and I went and did some new house shopping, picking light fixtures, carpet and tile. It was fun just tooling around together and I found that I didn’t think about cancer almost at all the whole time. Jessica and the kids made a card for her fiancé, Harley, who is serving in the marines overseas. Harley once sent Tanner a picture of himself with his marine haircut and Tanner with her leukemia do and said all the guys in his unit thought she looked cool. It hangs on our refrigerator and is one of the nicest things we have received (and that’s saying something!).

After John and I came back home, we all went to a friends’ house for tacos and fun. These are great friends who have been so kind to us. They go to our church and Tanner has known their daughter, Gracie, for a long time. They also have a son, Sam Ross, who is Jake’s age, so it made for an extra fun playdate as everyone had someone to play with. Their kids a similar energy levels to ours and we were treated to some crazy concerts and dance exhibitions.

Sunday, Tanner and I went to the mall together. She was feeling really bad when we left, with a lot of pain in her legs, but was determined to go. We took a jogging stroller with us so she could ride if her legs continued to hurt, but some painkiller seemed to fix the problem and she ended up pushing more than riding. We ate lunch in the foodcourt (another first since diagnosis) and did a little shopping then came home in time to go for another visit. Our friends Steve and Michelle were nice enough to let us come over and look at their beautiful kitchen to get some design ideas and the Tanner and Jake love to play with their girls. We finished the day with some Wii and everyone went to bed tired, but happy.

We also got some really great news… Tanner can go back to dance class. WOW! It will mean so much to her to be able to belong to something again. Not to mention how great it is for her legs.

So, we had a great weekend. Pretty normal, if you don’t count all the medication and the leg pain. Still, an idea that long term maintenance does equal more freedom, even if there is still more chemo involved than anyone would like.

Hope you had a good one, too.

Love,
Beth