Dear 6-year-old Jake

Dear Jake,

  Another year has gone by in a flash and here you are, already six.  Mere words could never accurately describe my love for you.  You are an amazing person.  You are brilliant, funny, thoughtful, gentle, compassionate, and kind.  You always take the time to show others how you feel about them. You are still my baby boy in a lot of ways, yet you are very mature.  You still have no idea what you've overcome, how much of a hero you are, or how you've inspired others.  I hope to share all of this with you some day when you're ready.  You excelled in kindergarten this year, in all areas, but especially in reading.  You are very creative - you love to color, play Minecraft, and build with Lego's.  Recently you have aspired to come a "doctor who treats kids in the hospital" and an architect.  I will help you in any way possible to make your dreams come true.  You rarely get in trouble, but if you do it's because of your temper.  You can get mad if you don't get your way, and boy can you bicker with your sister.
  
  You love to play golf and swim - both great sports choices for you!  Otherwise you are a very active boy who loves hide and seek and playing at the playground.  I'm so glad you are living the normal childhood you deserve and I can't wait to see who you become and what you accomplish in life. 

  I love you, my sweet pea.

               Mommy

Dear 5-year-old Jake

Dear Jake,

How in the world did five years go by so quickly? You have grown so much in the last year and it's very exciting to think about who you will be when you grow up. You have always been mature for your age and you handle the toughest things better than most grown-ups. When I think about your 4th birthday, I can't believe what a difference a year makes. You were bald, pale, and couldn't walk. Fast forward to your 5th birthday and you have a head full of hair, are healthy with sun kissed skin, and can run wild. No matter what, you always have that infectious laugh. You are adventurous, gentle, hilarious, thoughtful, and smart. 

You want to be just like your big brother, Ethan, and you are a wonderful friend to him. You often say the most random things and you make us all laugh. We were taking a walk one day and in the middle of normal conversation you asked, "But, how strong do you have to be to carry a house?" You are really into Superman, Star Wars, golf, and baseball. Your favorite movies (right now) are Tangled, Frozen, and The Lego Movie. Your favorite TV show is Paw Patrol.

 You try your best at everything and you understand that doing your best is winning. But, even if you don't win you are always a good sport. Really, your good qualities are countless but even you have your moments. You aren't mean, but you can get mad and do some screaming. It's interesting because sometimes you're just upset because you think you're in trouble and you're worried that we won't forgive you. Sweet boy, everyone makes a bad choice now and then, even my perfect boy, and we will always forgive you.

 You start kindergarten this Fall and you are counting down the days. I hope you're excitement for learning never fades. Happy 5th birthday, Jakers. You will always be my "littlest" boy.

Love, Mommy

Walking along and...Slap!

Kait:
We're moving along in life, enjoying a beautiful day and, believe it or not, the fact that Jake had cancer is fading to the background.  Can it be possible to not think about cancer every second of every day?  Well, apparently it is possible to move forward with everyday tasks and activities.  We can actually go out in public without being stared at with "sad eyes".  Like today for instance, the kids are out of school for President's Day so we slept in, ate breakfast, and played a little.  Jake had a physical therapy appointment at 11am and we grabbed some lunch after at a new Mexican restaurant in town.  It's just me and the three kids since Randy, unfortunately, did not get the day off school.  Our kids are 2, 4, and 6 years old so you can imagine we are like a traveling circus everywhere we go.  Aubrey refused to sit in the highchair so a good compromise was to let her sit next to me in the booth.  To her this means jumping up and down and singing at the top of her lungs.  Jake ordered chicken nuggets...yes, at the Mexican restaurant.  He refuses to touch them and proceeds to eat cheese dip likes its water.  Ethan, the oldest, inhales eats his taco like a good boy.  In the midst of normal conversation, Ethan says, "Well, it's almost time for Jake to go to the hospital again.  The doctor said he has to go back every three months and March will be three months since he's been."  And there cancer goes, slapping me in the face again.  Yes, Jake is due for his six month post treatment scans on March 6, 2014, this is not news to me.  However, it is shocking to me that a six year old would be keeping track of this.  Instead of thinking about the next holiday or birthday he is thinking about his brother having to go to the hospital.  It makes me so mad that cancer keeps rearing its ugly head.  I want to scream, "Get out of our lives!  Get our of our minds!  You are not welcome here."  People tell me that it gets easier as time goes by, but I honestly feel that cancer will always be a part of our lives in one way or another.  I hope that eventually I will not be so emotional about it.  As of now everything I see about childhood cancer brings me to tears.  Doesn't matter if it's good, like a Make-a-Wish being granted or bad, like a child dying.  Everything that has to do with cancer is emotional.  Cancer is so evil, I can actually imagine it having a face with a look of malice.  Always trying to cause pain. 

Anyway, I have to get over the fact that I can't protect my kids from everything.  It's probably best to involve Ethan in Jake's appointments rather than hoping he'll be in ignorant bliss.  Obviously, he knows what's up and he is far from ignorant.  As far as Jake's healing progress, he is doing amazingly well.  We saw his surgeon on 2/4/14 and he was so pleased.  He said that we couldn't ask for better and that Jake is free to do any activities he would like.   He can be an active little boy again!  Jake's tibia has grown enough on both ends that if he were to break a screw or have a complication, the Dr would be able to fix it.  We know that there's a good chance Jake might break something in that leg someday and we are okay with it.  We refuse to limit him - we will never tell him "you can't" when he's been given this second chance at life.  At physical therapy, his wonderful PTs have been working hard to help Jake walk straight and without a limp.  He is gaining strength and is really starting to trust his left leg.  When he walks slowly you wouldn't even know that he had major surgery. 

[Click below to see a video of Jake walking.]

Post by Jake's fight against Ewing's sarcoma.

Randy is going to run his first marathon in March and is raising money in Jake's name for the Rally Foundation for childhood cancer research.  If you have even a dollar to spare, would you consider donating?

https://www.rallyfoundation.org/run/half-marathon-training/publix-georgia-half-marathon-marathon/rally-for-jake-randy-Russell
 

I am very thankful for where we are in life, but, most of the time it is hard to believe that this is our life.  I was thinking the other day that I wish I could go back to when Ethan was a baby so I could know what it felt like to hold him once again.  Then I thought to myself, would I be willing to relive the past year and a half just to experience holding my first born again?  God forgive me, but nothing would be worth going through cancer treatment again.  N.o.t.h.i.n.g. 

I know that there will be times like today where cancer and Jake's journey will jump to the forefront of my mind.  I will accept whatever comes our way, help others as we can, raise awareness for childhood cancer, and thank God every single day that our traveling circus is as noisy as ever. 

Looking back

I'm sitting here in the waiting room before Jake is being sedated for his PET/CT scans and reflecting on the past 10 months.  What a wild ride it has been....I still remember November 5th like it was yesterday.  I remember 2 days later sitting down in a room with Kait and Dr. Katzenstein and we learned about the monster that was going to try to kill our son, and the plan for stopping it.  We left the hospital and stared at the "roadmap" that was before us.....17 inpatient chemo stays....outpatient trips....constant trips to the ER....blood counts....surgery....and on and on....

Overwhelmed seemed inadequate to describe how we felt....

So what do you do when you're facing an absolute mountain that you have no choice but to climb?

You start climbing.....

We didn't climb alone though.  It was evident early on that we weren't alone.  We learned what true friendship was, as time and time again people we knew and were just getting to know stepped up to help.  They offered fundraisers, time, food, anything to help make our day to day climb a little easier.  We learned what family means.  We saw family sacrifice their time and energy to help us take care of our children so I could continue school and keep my shop open.  Time and time again when things seemed their darkest we had each other and our network of friends and family to pick us up.

In the next 2 hours we will reach the top of the mountain and step over the peak.  We don't know what the other side holds, but we know that no matter what we have an amazing network of friends and family to help us along the way.  I said after the Chick Fil A fundraiser in November that "Thank You" seemed inadequate, and this is still true.  I don't know what expression means more than complete gratitude, but that applies here.  Thank you for allowing our family to not feel alone during what has been without a doubt the darkest period of our lives.

No matter where this journey continues, we know that Jake's Fight is not done.  We will continue to advocate for others.  Cancer picked a fight with us, and fight we will.  The stakes are too high and the lives are too precious to walk away now.

Last day of chemo!

Just a short post to let everyone know that Jake received his last chemo infusion today!  It only took a few minutes and now he is done!  Oh happy day!

Things you don't want to hear

From Randy:

I can't tell you how tired I am of these monsters....sure you're sick of me bitching about it...but you need to read this. Tonight I went with Ethan to visit Jake and Kait at Egleston....everything was okay while we visited. On the way out the room across the hall I could hear the child in there SCREAMING in pain....screaming for someone to help him (he is 10 years old)....Kait said he had been ...pretty much vomiting since they got there Thursday afternoon. We stopped and said hi to Colton (another Ewings fighter) and his wonderful parents Scott and Kristi. He has been in the hospital for over a week now with a blood infection and it in ICU (sedated and on a ventilator). He just got moved to the oncology wing today.  He pretty much spent his birthday half sedated, and is currently just trying to keep his head up and hold things in his stomach.

We can't sit back and just "like" statuses and pray....we have to do something. We can help end this cycle of pain. We can stop these kids' suffering....there has to be a better way. They are being treated with drugs that originated when Nixon was in office. Do you realize how insane it is that in a society where technology is moving at the speed of light that we HAVE ONLY ONE NEW DRUG to show for the past 25 years of research in pediatric cancers?

I want to scream sometimes...and get angry as f**k...tonight it took everything in my soul to not cry my eyes out when I got to the car...but I didn't want Ethan to see me like that. It's hard enough to know that he heard and saw the same things that I did tonight...and he's old enough to understand that it wasn't normal.

Why is this normal for treatment of these diseases....why do we accept these barbaric treatments for our children? Why is it okay to inject our kids with drugs that originated as parts of mustard gas (see origins of Doxorubicin)?

CHILDHOOD CANCER ISN'T CUTE BALD KIDS HOLDING BALLOONS....

I'm so angry right now.....

From Kait:  I am so glad that this is the last night of Jake's 5-day chemo.  5 days is a long time to hear sounds of crying, throwing up, screaming, and pain- and they aren't even coming from my kid!  I am so thankful that this time Jake is only crying is when he has to drink his medicine.  Of course he will cry in pain and fear when it is time to de-access his port tomorrow.  If all goes as planned Jake will only have his port accessed two more times...EVER!  I can't wait for Jake's healing to be complete.  Then maybe Randy and I can start healing our hearts from the agony we have been living for the past 10 months. 

 

We are watching a lot of movies, going to the playroom, and visiting the gift shop to pass the time and he is in a pretty good mood.  He keeps asking when Thanksgiving is because that is tentatively when he will be cleared to start walking again.  He says he is tired of crawling and doesn't like hopping on his walker because he isn't fast enough to play with his brother.  We are asking for prayers to keep the cancer away and specifically for complete healing in his leg so that he can walk in November.  We know there is a chance that it won't heal like it needs to, but we are remaining optimistic.  Jake says "hi!"‪

Wallow, anybody?

Kait:
It's been 9 months of "the Jake show."  Ethan has to be aware that Jake gets more attention most of the time, yet he holds absolutely no ill will toward him.  There are streaks of jealousy but it doesn't seem like any more than normal brothers experience.  (There's that word again...normal.)  In the past few weeks, Ethan has been acting out, talking back, and just being mean in general.  Not to Jake, to me.  We have tried every type of reasonable punishment to no avail.  My Mom asked him why he is being so mean to Mommy and his response was, "because she doesn't like me."  Stab me in the heart.  How could my sweet angel think I don't like him??  I am so sick of the affects that cancer has had on our family!  So, after bawling my eyes out about it, I did some google-ing and read that it is healthy to let your children see you cry once in a while.  It teaches them that expressing emotion is normal.  I do my best not to let them see me cry in the past 9 months but it got me wondering, should I have been doing this all along?  I took Ethan to church with me on Sunday since Jake wasn't feeling well and Randy stayed home with Jake and Aubrey.  We were having fun together.  He was happy and his usual sweet self until the service started.  Then the behavior began.  I tried to correct him lovingly and with positive reinforcement, but it only resulted in more obstinacy and rudeness.  I finally just ignored him because I wasn't getting anywhere and it was almost time for him to leave with the children's group.  After church was over I met up with Ethan and the children's group leader and found that he had a hard time then as well.  Randy talked with him when we got home and I decided it was a good time to turn on the water works and test out this crying theory.  It was pretty easy for me to draw up some emotion- imagine that?  As soon as he saw me crying he started crying.  And he cried...and cried...and cried.  I don't know if he was upset because he had upset me or because he just really needed to let out some pent up emotion.  Either way, he has been back to being my angel ever since.  It does make total sense to me because when I am full to the brim with stress, anger, and emotion, I am quick to anger.  But when I let it out it's like a fresh start.  Like a little of my burden is no longer mine. 
Sometimes I feel like wallowing in self pity and I wonder how we got here.  Why did this happen?  How did this happen?  What are we going to do when it's over?  I can't answer any of them.  And then, it is so hard to read about the kids who are dying every day.  They went through similar chemo regimen hells and still lost.  All the time we are connected with another family who is going through the same thing we are going through.  It is amazing that something that is supposedly so rare is everywhere we look.  It's not just kids fighting Ewings either.  There are people in their early 20's and older fighting just as hard as Jake.  All the time we talk about hoping that Jake doesn't remember most of this.  I mean what do you remember from being three or four?  I said that same sentiment to someone who has a loved one fighting, except his loved one is older and a parent.  The reply I heard was something like "unfortunately if my loved one doesn't make it, her children are so young that they won't remember her."  I have thought about this conversation so many times and every time is makes me sick with heartache.   Then I realize that if Jake didn't make it, Aubrey wouldn't remember him, and Ethan's memories would be vague at best.  I don't know why I'm sharing these gut wrenching things right now.  Maybe I'm just in a mood to wallow.  Cancer invokes a world of rollercoasters, except that you don't have to choice of whether or not to ride.  Through all of these ups and downs we've learned and grown.  We manage the day-to-day, put on our brave face, and live life to the fullest, the best that we can.  I can't say that it gets easier because I don't know yet.  I just only hope that it does.  #jakesfight

Ethan, our little "photo bombing" goofball

 

Not My Child

Randy:  I remember Kait coming home from doing a wedding (photographer) a few years ago and telling me about being bothered by one of the children in the family.  It appeared that the young girl had some sort of cancer.  I guess it's pertinent that Kait was and is a very talented photographer, and in her previous life actually did more than just take pictures of our smiling children.  I don't remember exactly when it was, but it was after Ethan was born because we talked about how much it bothered her to see a young person (I believe this girl was between 10-13 yrs) and then imagine it being our child. (foreshadowing)

I know...this almost seems made up....but it really happened.  She brought it up last week and I had honestly forgotten about it.  We were discussing the reasons why it's so tough to raise awareness, why it can be so difficult to get people outside of the inner circle of close friends and family to do more than like a status on facebook.  When Kait told that story and we talked about it it all made sense that in many cases it's just too difficult to face as a parent.  The idea of imagining your innocent little baby with something this awful can be a bit overwhelming and make you lose a bit of sleep.  It's just easy to say "not my child".

Over the past few months we've definitely seen the best that exists in our society.  From people making financial contributions that we know don't have the extra money to do so, fundraisers where businesses forgo profits to help our family, to people just offering time to help watch our kids so we could enjoy a night to regain our sanity.  It would also be safe to say that we have seen our fair share of friends abandon us, people we've known for many years never reach out at all, and even some family members have distanced themselves from the reality of this situation.  I think for those people it's just too difficult to expose yourself to the thought that this could happen to your own little angel.

What's the point of all of this?  I honestly don't know, but we have to find a way to get those with their fingers in their ears and eyes closed to open up and see this reality.  Children are dying....everyday...and the ones that survive are left with long term side effects.  The pictures of cute bald kids smiling with a stuffed animal and a balloon isn't a reality.  If anything they do a disservice to how brutal these treatments are.  The Aflac Cancer Center is an inspiring place with an amazing staff and the strongest people you will ever meet, but it's also a depressing place.  You watch young children with the life sucked out of them, parents walking around like zombies...and it's always full (there are about 50 rooms between the BMT and hematology/oncology wings).  It's a place where hope and optimism can turn into anger, pain and despair.  We have tried to share the good and bad of our journey so far, but we have so far to go to bring the reality of this struggle to the mainstream where it needs to be.

No it's not your child...and it's really disturbing to imagine it being your child....but

It's wasn't our child either....

If the boot fits...

Jake had an appointment to see his surgeon this morning to get a new boot for his leg. He has x-rays to make sure that the screws and plates are still intact, and everything looks "as expected". There hasn't been much healing yet and I guess there won't be much until he finishes chemo.  Unfortunately, the chemo stunts the rate of healing.   
He didn't have to get a new boot, but they did make some adjustments to his to try to make it more comfortable for him. Jake still wanted to take it off on the ride home so I guess it's just going to be something we struggle with until he can walk (sometime in November).
Jake is feeling pretty well today and we are thankful for that. Please keep praying for our baby...we know it's helping.

Last night, there was a fundraiser for us at Classic Bowl in Rome, GA.  Jake's counts were high enough for us to be able to attend and we had a blast.  Great family and friends were there to support Jake in his fight, as well as to bowl!  Here is a link to the blog that the photographer posted last night. 
http://aprilingramphotography.blogspot.com/2013/07/a-benefit-for-jakejakes-fight-against.html

Didn't she do an awesome job?  In spite of all the bad we are still making good memories to last a lifetime.  Take that cancer!

The Rug Under our Feet

Kait (Jake's Mommy):
We keep hearing of children becoming seriously ill or even dying from infections and complications from the effects of chemo.  It is amazing how in the blink of an eye your child can go from playing to fighting for his life.  Jake is doing well today, but nothing is promised and at any moment he could fall ill as well.  Every day I pray to God to keep watch over Jake.  Please don't let the rug get swept out from under us.  I don't ever want to be told to "say our goodbyes" to him because he may not make it through the night.  I hate having these thoughts on a daily basis.  I hate walking on eggshells and living in fear.  I can't wait to tell Jake that he is done getting chemo...done with shots...done with finger pokes.  Can't you just imagine the smile on his face when we get to tell him that?  I'm so thankful that we are getting closer to being able to with every passing day.  I know he is ready to be done going to the hospital too.  I think he must have dreams about going there because he wakes up and the first thing he says is "Do I have to go to an appointment today?"  It sucks that he has to go through this.  A four year old, let alone any child, should not have to worry about getting poked and prodded on a daily basis.  It's safe to say that this "cancer" thing is getting old. 

So there's my long overdue rant, now hopefully I can more forward.  Jake has four more treatments to complete until his protocol is finished.  Today is day 6 (day one is the first day he received chemo this round) and his counts will get to a low point any time between now and day 10.  He goes in for a clinic appointment to check blood counts on Monday and he will also get a (day 8) Vincristine (chemo drug) push while we are there.  This will be a short appointment but nonetheless, he will not be happy about going.  The boot he has been wearing on his left leg has become too big for him and it starts sliding off and rubbing on his foot almost immediately after we put it on.  It has gotten to where he doesn't even want to wear it because it is uncomfortable.  So, I called his surgeon and scheduled an appointment to get him refitted for a new boot this Tuesday.  Hopefully that will solve the problem of getting him to keep the boot on.  I get so worried about him playing on the floor and crawling around with nothing protecting his leg.  Our house is pretty full since we have two adults, three kids, two dogs, and two cats living here.  It's a zoo and it's never quiet, but we wouldn't change it for the world.  But, it does mean that there is always someone running around who could step on or trip over Jake's leg.  Should I let him play and have a good time with his brother and sister, or try to keep him in a protective bubble?  I want to let them play because it is such a sweet sound hearing them laugh.  But would it be worth having something happen to his leg?  I don't know the answer, but I think it is important for the kids to have fun together.  I only hope that the way that I take care of them and the choices that I make for them are the right ones. 

Graduation...and one more hurdle

Today was a great day for Jake as he got to graduate from preschool at Monroe High School as part of the Little Learners program.  From day one he has loved going and meeting new friends, and the students that teach have been absolutely fantastic.  We learned tonight just how bright our future is with these high school students that plan on being educators, they are truly special for all that they do.  The entire program is lead by Lisa Sizemore, who we could fill the blog with adjectives describing how wonderful she has been to our son and our family from the very beginning.  The entire program has gone out of its way to accommodate Jake's condition and have been so supportive in including him in every activity possible.

Tonight he received his diploma after a very cool presentation full of music and a video recapping the year with the Little Learners.  It would be nice to say it was all smiles, but there were some emotional parts when we saw Jake's pictures from early in the school year.  He was so innocent and healthy, having no clue of the monster that lurked in the shadows.  It was also an emotional moment when he got his diploma.  One of his favorite students Zach pushed him across the stage to a great round of applause from the audience.  Anyways it was a great night full of laughs, playing, food, and getting to be around the kids that have been so kind to our little man this year.  Mrs. Sizemore has a great group of students and we are so thankful Jake was able to be a part of the program.

Tomorrow is really the last real unknown or hurdle we will face before the final chapter.  We will meet with the talented Dr. Fletcher to determine how well Jake's leg has healed and if he is ready to start with some light physical therapy and have his cast taken off.  We hope that everything is healing well, as Jake has said little to nothing since the first two weeks after the surgery.  Hopefully the news is good and we can take one more step towards our little fighter going back to being a little boy again.

After the results tomorrow night we'll post another update and let everyone know what Jake's next steps are.

The Gorilla in the Room



Randy:  There haven't been that many posts from us the past few weeks, and there are a couple of reasons for that.  I guess both of us feel like we haven't had much new happening and so we assume the other has something to blog about.  Anyways here we are, 2 days home from treatment number 10.  We're past the halfway point....time flies when you're having fun....RIGHT?...(crickets).  I have come to grips with what brought some of the anger and emotion in the last blog out.  You see since this all started in October we have had a constant barrage of dates and deadlines to look forward to.  Since November 5th when Jake was diagnosed there has been a gorilla in the room that we were distracted from, which is his mortality, and our future as a family.  We didn't realize it but we are at the point in the treatment plan when we start to wait.  I mean there are plenty of chemo treatments left, but those are things we've dealt with, old news.  The next new and excited chapter in this story is the ending.  We find out next that either Jake beats this and goes on to live a normal life or......the other ending.  That has been a tough reality to face, and to put it in other terms is the gorilla just stood up and introduced himself.  We realize this has led to a lot of tension internally, and it has spilled into our relationships with each other, our friends, and anyone else close to us over the past few weeks.

Kait had been taking Jake to all of his 2 day treatments because I have school on Thursdays and work both nights, but this time I offered to take him and close the shop because Ethan had an art show at school.  I have been to Egleston many times, and it has a weird "home" feeling now, but I hadn't been with him during a clinic admission yet, so this was new territory for me.  It started simple enough but quickly went downhill as he pooped his pants just after getting into a clinic room.  Now I need to say that Jake is completely potty trained, but since his nasty mucositis he is very scared to poop, so he holds it......for more than a week at a time.  This is important because when "it" happens....IT HAPPENS.  I had to take him to the lobby bathroom and it was down his legs, so his pants had to be cut off (can't get cast wet), all over his wheelchair.  I finally got him back into the room with some shorts on and we waited.  About 10 minutes later he informs me that he needs to pee, so I carry him to the triage station bathroom....

and the day got much worse...

As I picked him up I didn't realize that his tube was caught under the base of his IV pole and it pulled it out.....completely.  Fluids were already running so it bled like a head wound.  It was down his legs, on his sock, all over me, and the only thing I could do was pull the emergency help tether on the wall.  About 6 nurses came to help and get the access needle completely removed.  I took him back to the room and he calmed down after a while.  Of course then he had to have his port accessed again so he had to deal with that a second time (his least favorite part of the hospital).  This has happened two other times, once by each of us, but this was apparently the worst because every time I went to pick him up or move him the rest of the day or Friday he would whimper and say "Please don't hurt me daddy".....ouch.

Anyways the rest of the stay was pretty uneventful, as Jake met some new friends in the playroom and I met some more parents to share stories with.  When in the room he watched Team Umizoomi and Toy Story 3.  This was a lighter chemo load as the "red devil" (doxorubicin) was not on the schedule this time so we were discharged by lunchtime on Friday.  Jake takes everything in stride and smiles no matter what.  This quote seems fitting for his predisposition to everything:

Tired...and a little jaded

I have to apologize...I realize that most of the time my blog posts are bitch sessions....if that bothers you....best thing to do would be to hit "back on your browser".  

Randy: I wish I never knew about pediatric cancer. I mean that...I really do at this point. On October 15th we were shown the door...and it looked scary enough just peering inside for a few seconds....then on November 5th we were shoved through and the door was locked behind us. I've learned more about myself, our society, and people in the 5 months since that day than the 33 years that preceded it. These have been both good and bad lessons, seeing the best of us that I talked about back in December, and seeing some less than desirable behaviors. People being incredibly generous, both with assistance and more importantly time. People willing to put their own lives on hold to help our family enjoy some slivers of normalcy. I've also seen people withdraw from us, whether because the friendship wasn't very strong to begin with, or the fear of not knowing what to say or do.

I can give a piece of advice....not knowing what to say and saying the wrong thing is WAAAAYYYYY better than disappearing when your friend needs you.

 I wish we had never been shoved through this door. I wish I could go back to October 14th....and be ignorant to this world. I wish Jake had just simply broken his leg....how great that sounds now. I remember thinking that Saturday night "wow how awful if our little boy fractured his leg?"....lol...yeah that would be horrible now. Now I get to watch Jake, Ethan, and Aubrey get robbed of a normal childhood on a daily basis. Jake now has completely irrational anger, Ethan is acting out, and Aubrey is just too young to say "hey why the hell is my brother always crying?"....but I'm sure she is thinking it.

 I used to cry a lot....it helped. When I felt the need I had some things that would bring the emotion out. The song by Phillip Phillips "Home" was my first outlet. As time has passed I learned the story of Anna Basso, who courageously fought Ewing's only to succumb to this piece of shit disease before her life could really get going. Her favorite was "Float On" by Modest Mouse. That is my favorite song to run to, and it was the song I chose to have playing when I finished the half marathon in March. None of these work now....I honestly feel like I need a good "release" on a regular basis...but the emotions just won't come out anymore.

I want to yell....but nothing comes out....

This is taking its toll on me...my marriage....my ability to concentrate....my health. I don't eat well anymore...I drink more than I should....I don't sleep enough....Running used to be my outlet...but I can't seem to stay healthy long enough to keep that hobby up. I get angry way too fast now....I threw eggs all over the kitchen and then promptly put my fist through a wall this morning......really? Am I fucking 14 years old...? How pathetic do you have to be to take your anger out like that??

I know that which does not kill us makes us stronger...maybe this is killing me? Is it okay to feel angry...? Okay then....FUCK YOU CANCER!!!!

Dear Jake

Kait:
Dear Jake,
  You are amazing.  You are awe-inspiring and wonderful and adorable and bewildering all at the same time.  It has been 23 weeks and 2 days since your first x-ray, and since you have had 6 rounds of inpatient chemotherapy, 3 ER admits for chemo related illness, 3 surgeries (biopsy, port placement/bone marrow aspiration/radical resection of the tibia), 2 EKGs, 2 echocardiograms, 2 more x-rays, 3 blood transfusions, an MRI, and 2 CT/PET scans.  You have been sedated 3 times and put under general anesthesia 3 times.  Your port has been accessed 13 times.  At the beginning I thought that having an MRI was a big deal and, thanks to cancer, an MRI is now a walk in the park.  We keep wondering why you were chosen to have cancer.  I say it's because your wonderfulness is going to change the world.  You are so easy going and accepting.  You went to sleep one day and woke up with a huge bandage on your leg, yet you didn't question it.  You trusted us when we said the doctors fixed your boo-boo and then you asked to watch cartoons.  Jake, you are so smart, sweet, lovable, and hilarious.  Your laugh makes me burst with a laughter of my own.  While you are perfect in my eyes, remember that no one is perfect by the definition of the word.  Perfection is boring and you, my sweet pea, are always full of surprises.  You can be quick to anger and can throw magical tantrums.  I have to keep reminding myself that you are still only 3 because you are so mature and strong.  You are someone to be looked up to and you have taught me so much. 

"I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always.  As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be." Robert Munsch

Mommy

Prelude to the letter above:
I wrote a letter to each of my boys before Aubrey was born last year and I plan to write one to them every year around their birthdays.  Every word means even more to me now, and I want nothing more than to write these letters for years and years to come.  Here is what I wrote to Jake last year:

Dear Jake (age 2 1/2),
  You are my sweetie pie in every way!  I love getting to see your personality grow as you have become a little person.  You have a voice and something to say and you deserve to be heard.  I am amazed at how smart you are, independent, courageous, hilarious, and sweet.  You are going to grow up to be an incredible person and I am so proud to be your Mommy.  I love you so much and I love spending time with you.  You must always remember that I love you no matter what and always will.  You are my littlest boy no matter how big you grow.  I know your childhood will pass by in the blink of an eye for me, but I hope you (and I) will enjoy every minute that we spend together.  It's hard to say that I can't wait to see who you become because the truth is that I want you to be my little boy for as long as possible.  I love you so much.

Mommy

Fun fact: Jake weighed 12lbs, 7 ounces and was 22.5 inches when he was born!

 

Recovery with a side of...

Kait:  As Randy mentioned in the last post, Jake has done amazingly well since surgery.  Honestly, it is unbelievable that he is doing so well.  I know I shouldn't be that surprised since he is an amazing little boy.  Today marks once week from surgery and he only complains when it's almost time for pain medicine (lortab) or if we jostle him a little too much when carrying him.  The hardest thing so far is going to the bathroom, so I think we're doing pretty well.

He has his post-op appointment with one of his surgeons on 3/13 and as long as he clears Jake to resume chemo then we'll be back at Egelston for a two day treatment on 3/14.  We have to keep going and keep beating this cancer down.  I know that, but I really don't want to go.  Ethan doesn't want Jake to go either.  He said "If the tumor is gone why does he have to keep going to the hospital?"  It's a perfectly reasonable question and the answer is "because he has to."  We have to finish the course of treatment if we have any hope of beating this.  So now he has to keep getting chemo and the side effects and he can't walk.   In case we haven't mentioned before, his surgeon said that he can't walk on that leg for 9 months.  No need to go back, you read that right.  Essentially he should be done with chemo before he can walk.  The hard part will be convincing him and keeping him from walking when his leg doesn't hurt any more.  I feel bad for complaining because I know that some kids who have had cancer never walk again.  I am more than thankful that he will.

 I definitely think that Jake is handling all of this way better than the rest of us.  He went to sleep on 2/26 and woke up not being able to walk and in a ton a pain.  Yet, he accepts this and doesn't even question it.  I, however, feel like a wreck.  I bottled up my emotions on the day of surgery so that Jake wouldn't ask me what was wrong.  Then I kept them securely tucked away while I cared for him in the hospital.  Finally, a few days later I began to feel run down, depressed, and emotional.  I should have just let it all out that day. 

This next little bit may not be for those of you with weak stomachs, or who are eating right now.  Let this be a warning ;)  Jake- I apologize as this will embarrass you some day.

August 2011:  We had just gotten on the road to head home from Orlando after a wonderful vacation when it started to rain one of those rains that requires the wipers on full blast and looks like its coming from the ground as much as from the sky.  Jake says, "I need to go poopy."  Randy and I look at each other, out the windshield, and back again.  There are no gas stations in site and only fields on either side of us (more like swamps now).  Jake was not even 2 and a half yet so we still put him in pull-ups for long car rides in case he fell asleep.  Basically, Randy and I ignored his request to go to the bathroom since there was nowhere to stop.  A pungent aroma filled the car and we knew the deed was done.  Hurry up nearest gas station...we need to stop.  I volunteered to change the pull-up so I grabbed Jake and scurried into the gas station, which turned out to be a lovely truck stop complete with a Dunkin Donuts.  Into the women's room we went.  No sooner did we get in did I notice a wetness on my stomach and a glance in the mirror confirmed that this would be no ordinary clean up.  Let me mention here that I didn't bring the wipes in.  Stupid!  Ok, no problem.  I grabbed some paper towels and stood him up in the sink, pulled his shorts down which smeared the mess all the way to his socks.  I pulled up his shirt and found more smear up to his arm pits.  Shirt, shorts, and socks- in the trash.  This awesome terrible restroom had the tiniest sinks known to man and poor Jake was standing in it while I tried to splash water up to clean away the mess.  To make matters worse, a cleaning woman comes in and proceeds to stand about 10 feet away watching me.  Just watching.  Take a picture, lady!  Finally she offers me a rag and then resumes rubbernecking.    I guess she just couldn't turn away and needed to see how this one played out.  Forgot to mention that Jake is crying the whole time.  After about 20 minutes I come out of the bathroom with Jake in nothing but a clean pull-up.  Randy had come in with Ethan and says, "do you want a donut?"  No, I don't want a freaking donut!  I want a clean shirt.  In the pouring rain I change my shirt at the trunk of the car and then dispose of my poop shirt.  We all pile in.  Randy: "I heard screaming, what happened?"  Me: "Bad things." 

The funny thing is that we should have known something like that would happen.  Jake has always been "the man" when it comes to pooping, in fact one of his nicknames was "Pooperton."  That dude was a flatulence machine as well.  This brings us to the reason I am recalling this story.  After Jake had mucusitis the first time, he had bad sores that caused severe pain when he needed to poop.  The memory of this has been seared into his brain and continues to cause him trouble.  Although it doesn't hurt anymore, he still thinks it's going to and because of this he holds it for days and days and days.  He held it so long that he could no longer sit upright and we had to take him to the hospital back at the beginning of February.  He is on Miralax daily to keep things moving.  Now picture the story I told before and add a little over a year to it (present day).  Dejavu, except that I have to cut his pants off so that I don't smear it all over the dressing on his leg.  Anyone sell break away pants for a three year old?  Sorry Jake, I just had to get this in writing even though I know you will kill me for it. 

We had our first outing this morning with the wheelchair to visit Jake's school.  I wanted to try it while my Mom is still here so I could leave Aubrey at home.  Everything was going fine until we got down the road and had to come back home for a cut-off-the-pants clean up.  Add 30 minutes and we were back on the road- take 2.  At his classroom he was surrounded by all of his friends and he was very happy to have the attention.  We stayed long enough to do an activity and then came home for lunch.  I would say it was a successful trip, all in all.  This Saturday we have an appointment with the Make-a-wish foundation where Jake will start the process and tell them what his wish is.  His wish is to ride Mickey's train at Disney World.  What a fun trip that would be! 

Thanks to everyone around the world who is following Jake's fight. 

We can feel the love ♥

The Big Day

Randy:  As scheduled Jake had his surgery on Tuesday the 26th.  To say Kait and I were carrying a little bit of anxiety leading into it would have been an understatement.  Our little boy was going to have major surgery, where his lower left leg would basically be taken apart and put back together.  He wouldn't be able to walk for months, not even consciously thinking about the fact that his chemo would start right back up in 2 weeks.  Either way this is the biggest hurdle in our journey and a necessary step to get to the end.

We arrived at the hospital at 11:30 for our noon appointment and were pretty quickly checked in.  They told us he was scheduled to have his surgery at 2pm and that everything was on time.  His surgeon (Dr. Oskouei) came in and explained the procedure and that his part (removing the cancerous bone) would be quick and only take 30 minutes or so, Dr. Fletcher (Pediatric Orthopedic surgeon) would be responsible for putting the cadaver bone in and fastening it with the plate and screws.  This would take upwards of 2 hours so we expected this whole thing to be over with by 5pm.  We did ask about the cadaver bone, and it was from a female adult in the midwest.  The surgeon said it was actually a pretty close fit size wise.  One funny note from this was the name of the procedure they performed was an allograft, however the nurses and doctors kept calling it a "limb salvage procedure".  We all kind of agreed that we didn't like that name and "allograft" sounded much less intimidating.

Around 2pm Jake was given Versed, which is a heavy anti-anxiety medicine that makes him loopy and forget everything that happens.  They give him this before taking him back so he doesn't freak out, as they don't fully sedate him until he is in the operating room.  Around 2:30 they rolled him back and we started the waiting process....

and we waited....

and waited....

and waited....

It would have been much less comforting if the operating room nurse didn't call and give us a couple of updates, because we didn't speak to Dr. Oskouei until almost 4:30.  He told us everything went great and that he started Dr. Fletcher's portion before leaving.  We were thinking another hour or so and he would be done....

but we waited some more....

Dr. Fletcher came out to talk to us just after 6:30 and informed us everything had gone well.  He told us what to expect when we saw him and eventually took him home.  He won't be able to walk for months (as many as 9), and any weight placed on it in the first few months could jeopardize the entire procedure as the plate the holds the bone together is VERY thin.  We were told to expect to be able to see him in around 30 minutes, and so we waited some more (that was the them that day).  After an hour or so the recovery room nurse called to say that he was stable but had a slight fever and some issues with pain.  They were going to keep him a little longer but we could go up to his room and wait.

and we waited some more....

and waited....

Finally around 10pm they rolled our little man in and he immediately informed us of the nurses spoiling him with apple juice drink after apple juice drink :)  He was in great spirits considering the level of discomfort he was in.  The first night was a bit rough as he didn't get any Lortab until around 3am, and so his only relief from pain came from a patient controlled morphine pump.  It was set to be able to be pushed every 7 minutes, which was great....except when we tried to sleep.  As the night and next day went along we were able to manage his pain and he started making great progress.  We were told he would be in the hospital for 4 days, so we expected to come home Friday or Saturday, however the doctors said he was recovering so well that they discharged him on Thursday.

We are still adjusting to our new lives at home.  The next few weeks will be very challenging until Jake can learn how to move himself around a bit.  He has a wheelchair and a walker, but will have to learn how to transfer himself from a chair to them.  First he has to get his pain down, which will take a little bit.  We're just glad this went as well as it did, and thank everyone for keeping us in your thoughts.

Hiatus

Kait:  I want to preface this post by saying that Jake has been doing really well.  We've had a lot of fun together during his hiatus from chemo, and Jake's personality has returned.  He has a loud cackle that makes everyone in the room laugh too.  His infectious smile is on display most of the time and his appetite has returned full force.  We took the family to the Big Apple circus, LEGOLAND, mini-golfing, the mall, horseback riding, golfing, the playground, Chuck E. Cheese's, and Toys R Us.  Basically, anything they wanted to do, we did.  Don't get me wrong, we had a ton of fun, but, there was no way to keep the sad thoughts from creeping in.  The elephant was always sitting in the corner telling us not to get too comfortable.  I would see him laughing and think "in a few days he is going to be in pain again."  I would see other healthy children playing and feel sad that Jake wasn't able to play to the fullest because he is tired, or just doesn't feel like himself.  This week gave us a small glimpse at how life will be after he completes chemo and we hate that he has to jump right back in just 16 days after surgery, after he has had a taste of life without constant pain, medicine, and doctors.
I am nervous about his surgery.  I am afraid to tell him what is going to happen because he knows enough now to not want to go to the hospital no matter what it's for.  I took both Ethan and Jake to his clinic appointment last Thursday and Ethan spent time talking with Layne (the child life specialist) while Jake got his blood counts checked.  Layne explained the surgery to Ethan and made him feel involved and special.  Jake's counts were perfect, confirming that his surgery will go as scheduled on 2/26/13. 
  I wanted to explain Jake's surgery in case anyone is wondering.  His surgeon said that he is an excellent candidate for an allograft which is the replacement of a bone with a cadaver bone.  Jake's tumor is very big- it is almost the size of his entire left tibia.  Thank God, it doesn't effect either growth plate.  The surgeon will make an incision from just below his knee down to above his ankle and remove the tumor.  The tumor is his tibia from below the top growth plate to about an inch above his bottom growth plate.  Like I said, it is big.  The surgeon has to remove a lot to be sure to get a good amount of healthy bone and tissue surrounding as well.  This is called removing with good margins and is important for removing tumors.  He will then place a tibia from a cadaver in the empty space and secure it with plates and screws.  He'll stitch him back up and be off to recovery.  We won't know if he'll be just bandaged or in a cast until he comes out of surgery because it will depend on how secure they are able to make the new bone.  The whole surgery should only take about two hours since he is so small.  He will be in a wheel chair for several weeks until he is cleared to start some weight bearing, but it will be nine months before the bone is heeled completely.  His tibia will continue to grow as normal because bones grow from the growth plates out. 
 
Something that I haven't spent much time thinking about is the cadaver.  It's been in the back of my mind ever since we were told he would be getting this surgery, but I haven't confronted my feelings on it before.  I know that it is possible for Jake to get a new bone because another child died and his or her parents consented for their child to be an organ donor.  A pair of broken hearts have generously given a priceless gift so that my baby will be able to walk and run and play for the rest of his life.  No one and I mean NO ONE wants to consider that they may be in the position to make that decision...ever.  But, I now know what our decision would be.  Sigh...every single piece of this journey is so hard and painful, stressful and depressing.  I am trying so hard to be strong and keep it together.  I try not to think too hard about things because all I need is a little crack and I'll fall to pieces.  I hate hearing my little boy cry and I know that is my future for the next step.  Yet, this step is absolutely necessary for his recovery.  I just want it done with so I can know what to expect and can take care of him without the mystery of how our life will be post-surgery. 

I talk about Ethan and Aubrey a little bit but a lot of people have been asking how they are doing so I thought I would share a little bit.  Ethan was nicknamed the "class encyclopedia" in his pre-K class and he still loves to share information.  He is so sweet, smart, and funny, and he has a heart of gold.  I call him my angel.  I'm not sure if it's because he's five or because his little brother has cancer, but Ethan has been acting out.  He has been very angry with me and he hates when I have to be in the hospital with Jake.  He calls me several times a day asking me to come home.  How do I explain to a five year old that Jake needs me just a tiny bit more?  I feel like a terrible mom for even saying that because I know Ethan needs me too.  When I am home I spend extra time with him and shower him with love and attention but he still has outbursts and I've found that he just needs a good cry now and then.  Don't we all. 

Thankfully, Aubrey is not old enough to know what's going on.  She doesn't cry when I leave but she is very happy to see me when I am home again.  My Mom (Grams) takes care of her when Jake is in the hospital during the 5 day stays so I don't have to worry about her or Ethan.   I have no idea what I would do without her and am so thankful that my Dad insists that she come even though it means that he is alone for a week at a time.  I say it a lot, but if we didn't have the support from our family and friends that we have this would be next to impossible.  

As I type this, Randy tells me that Ethan said he is sad that Jake has to go back to the hospital.  He doesn't want him to have to go anymore and he misses him.  I am mad that he has to go through this and honestly it's just not fair, and the phrase "no one said life would be fair," is bullshit.  Telling myself that doesn't make it hurt any less.  I wanted to be a Mom my whole life and I have the three beautiful children that I always dreamed of.  Cancer wasn't supposed to be a part of it.  I think positively 99% of the time but there is that 1% of my brain that lets a thought in that cracks my shell.  What if he doesn't beat this?  I know, I know, I know, that he has to beat this but I can't help but let that thought in once in a while.  If I never had those thoughts I would not be human. And, because I can't imagine life without Jake, it gives me the drive to fight the cancer even harder.

Hug your kids a little tighter tonight. 

The Roller Coaster

Randy:  Saturday started our first day of our short time of "normal" with Jake.  We went to the mall and played mini golf, ate dinner, and let the boys ride the train.  We got up Sunday morning and went to the Big Apple Circus, where the kids had a blast.  After that we went down to Phipps and Legoland Discovery, which Ethan had been asking about almost daily since he learned it existed.  When we arrived we were disappointed to learn that all tickets for the day had been sold, but Kait spoke with the manager and explained our situation, and an exception was made.  I can't thank the manager there enough for allowing us to go through anyway, it would have really ruined the day.  The kids had a great time playing with the build a race car lego area and we left for dinner at On the Border.  

I try to remain positive and hide any fears or anxiety I may have.  Between school, the shop, and this I really don't have time to get too focused on one thing for a while.  Tonight as we kept the circus under control at dinner I began to come to the realization that Jake wasn't going to just go back to the way he was.  All day he was quiet, shy, almost scared to have much fun.  Sure he did some laughing, but not the way he did before November 5th.  As I watched him eat dinner and noticed the people staring around the restaurant, I realized that this next 10 days was as normal as it would get for the next year.  Our lives pre-November 5th were completely gone, and we would never know that life again.

It really got me bummed, and I took it out on Kait on the way home as we had a pretty nasty spat.
We spent the last 30 minutes of the drive in silence while the kids slept in the back of the van.  I had this numb sort of anger going through me, and I couldn't pinpoint why.  As we approached the house I realized that I was wrong and apologized (way too late, but I at least made the effort).  I took my own emotions that I couldn't get out and turned them into a fight with the one person that always has my back.  The reality of what is happening is...

I am mad.

I am tired of being a sideshow when we're in public.
I am tired of seeing parents treat their children like shit.
I am tired of seeing parents act like their children are a burden.
I am tired of not knowing who Jake is day to day.
I am tired of seeing this take its toll on Ethan and seeing him act out.
I want my little boy back, and to be "normal" again.

We got home as we got them out of the car it hit me...all of it...I wasn't even able to get the kids out of the car before it got me.  I had to walk away and as I stepped out of our garage and around the house it came over me like a tsunami.  Hurt...anger...fear....all rolled into one.

I cried for 15 minutes, uncontrollably.  I went to my knees in the grass and almost threw up.  It just kept coming.  I couldn't turn it off no matter how hard I tried.  I finally got it together and came inside and as I got Ethan into bed he had a weird look on his face.  I asked him what was wrong and he said "nothing".  I told him that it looked like something was on his mind and he reached up, hugged me and whispered in my ear, "Daddy, I just love you so much."

How does a 5 year old come up with that, at that moment?  He had been fast asleep as I unloaded the contents of my mind in the grass outside of the garage....how could he tell that something was wrong?  Of course after choking out, "I love you too," I left the room and buried my head in Kait's shoulder, and after another 10 minutes of bawling my eyes out again I think I finally "got it out".  Admitting this on a blog to friends and complete strangers seems a little strange.  In one day I experienced excitement, joy, pride, anger, frustration, remorse, and sorrow.

Maybe this is what "normal" is now?

Hope

Kait: After a very long wait for Jake's PET scan on 2/4, he was discharged from the hospital, so Randy brought him home. We immediately piled into the car to go to Wendy's where the fundraiser was being held for us. We drove up and saw the sign with Jake's name on it and and we were excited for him to be feeling well so he could enjoy the night. We had a great time and had some delicious food!

Jake's oncologist reviewed his PET scan with Randy and he was very pleased with the results. The tumor is no longer lighting up on the scan like it was before. This means the chemotherapy is working. It's one thing to hear it but it's another to see the proof! We are very excited from this news and hope to continue on the path to recovery.

Jake went to school the next day but didn't feel up to going on Wednesday. He started feeling a little sluggish but not too bad. Friday afternoon he started running a little bit of a temperature but not enough to warrant a call to the hospital. He slept terribly that night and I was worried so I took him to the ER at Egelston to be checked out. They did an X-ray of his belly because he was complaining of pain and they found that he had a large amount of poop built up causing his intestines to distend. He was admitted and they started him on lactulose and an antibiotic (just in case). It was discovered that he also had a urinary tract infection. He spiked a fever that night and whenever that happens he has to stay in the hospital for a few more days. Plus his red blood counts went down overnight so he is getting a transfusion today. Ugh. I really didn't want to be here! So now it's Sunday and nothing has changed, except that he hasn't had a fever again. He can't be discharged until he is fever free for 24 hours, his white blood counts go up at a significant rate, and his blood cultures remain negative for bacteria for 72 hours. The white blood counts can jump miraculously overnight but the other two things we have to wait and see.

Randy took Ethan and Aubrey to the circus today and we found out that they will exchange the remaining two tickets for a different show date! Depending on how things go we may go to the circus next weekend instead. We also have a lot of things planned to do once jake is feeling better. The kids are going to choose whatever fun activities they want and we are going to spend a lot of time together before Jake's surgery on the 26th. My emotions have been going up and down lately even though we got the news of his chemo working. Don't get me wrong, it is good news, but I just want to be done with this. I want it to be gone and I want to close the door on this chapter. Unfortunately, this chapter will never be completely finished because once you have cancer you don't ever forget. There will always be follow up scans to worry about and long term effects of treatment that we won't know until he gets older.

This is really a pessimistic thing, but I saw it on Facebook today and I wanted to quote it because I have been all too guilty of it. If you have been guilty too, don't feel bad, just get even. Help us make a difference!

"What, children with cancer? I'd rather just turn my head the other way and pretend that doesn't really happen, said way too many people."

Up and Downs

Kait:  After my last post, Jake continued to be in pain from the mucositis so I called his nurse to see if we could take him to a hospital closer to home and get his blood counts checked.  I took him first thing on Wednesday morning and the results were what we suspected- very low.  So low that he actually needed to get a transfusion rather than get chemo the next day.  I must have called his nurse, Nan, 6 times throughout the day trying to figure out if I should take him that day instead of waiting until Thursday, but, in the end decided to wait it out.  Once again our plans were being changed and we had to roll with it because there is no other choice.  I was disappointed that he wouldn't be able to stay on track for his chemo and worried that he wouldn't be able to go to the Big Apple Circus on the 10th.  We had bought tickets and were hoping to surprise the kids.  I keep telling myself to go with the flow, but as I had told Randy, I wasn't feeling very good, kind of down.  I was tired of Jake not feeling good.  I had spent every minute trying to do what the doctors and nurses told me to do to prevent mucositis, which is to keep him hydrated and try to get him to eat.  The more he eats the faster his counts recover, and the more hydrated he is the better his G.I. tract will feel.  As I type it out it doesn't seem like it would be that emotionally exhausting, but it really is.  It is just awful to have your child be in pain and you are helpless to fix it. 

Even though his counts were low, I thought he might be recovering because he said he was hungry and was asking for food.  Arby's roast beef, specifically.  Our nearest Arby's is about 15 minutes away but I am always willing to get him what he wants.  Especially when he hasn't been eating much.  I got the sandwich and was on the way to Sonic for a slush drink when he started screaming about it hurting to eat it.  Before I could pull over he had balled up the sandwich and shaken it back and forth before throwing it on the floor.  We have an old minivan with bench seats and I can promise you that there are pieces of bread and beef in every square inch of it now.  Although I am not a fan of cleaning up food crumbs all over the car, I am glad that this incident happened.  I finally realized that Jake was not just in pain, but he was angry.  He was hungry and wanted to eat that sandwich and he couldn't.  He was mad.  Once I asked him if he was mad he calmed down.  His emotion was understood and validated and I think it made him feel a little better.  After that we worked together- me breaking off little pieces of food and him placing them on his tongue.  This allowed him to avoid having to bite into it and hurt his gums.  It makes me sad that he is having to spend this year of his life learning about himself and growing up while fighting cancer.  He has been transitioning from toddler to kid for a while now.  It just sucks that he learns how to vocalize anger from these experiences rather than something normal like having a toy taken from him at school. 

I took him the next morning, his scheduled chemo day, to get the blood his body needed to feel better quicker.  The low counts were making his heart work harder and made him feel tired and week.  The nurse took a blood sample to check his counts and went ahead and accessed his port.  He is getting so much better with that, it is amazing.  Now I don't have to hold him down at all.  He still cries and screams but he knows to hold still.  He has recently told us that he doesn't like to be held down when getting his daily shot and afterwards he tells us that he is very brave and that he did a great job.  His blood count results came back and we were shocked to see that they had gone from 900 to over 4000 overnight.  It is incredible what medicine, prayer, and the miracle of the human body can accomplish.  Instead of all of our schedules being turned upside down we were back on track for chemo and to be admitted that day.  He did still need a transfusion but that didn't effect the parts of his blood that are count specific for receiving chemo.  Jake has spent the past few days at the hospital getting his daily chemo and doing an excellent job eating and playing.  He had an echocardiogram which showed that his heart is doing great.  He is scheduled for a PET/CT scan tomorrow morning and we will pray for it to be clear once again.  Tomorrow night the Wendy's in Grayson is having a fundraiser for our family and we are excited to be able to be there to see friends and meet new ones. 

I wanted to end this post with a request for you to look through this website: https://www.1million4anna.org/  or at least watch this video about Anna:


I have been aware that funding for pediatric cancer research is very low since we found out that Jake has cancer.  Until reading through Anna's page I had never been angry about it.  Now I am.  I am angry that these beautiful children are suffering, fighting, and in a lot of cases, dying because the scientists are not receiving the funding that they need to find better treatments.  I don't know why, but Anna has touched me and made me understand that nothing will change if we don't step up and make it happen.  The Basso family has lost their daughter and are still helping the world and I am so inspired by them.  We have to do something about this.