Come Monday

So much of raising kids is confusing. Maybe it’s just MY kids that are confusing. Or maybe it’s just me in a constant state of confusion.

Whatever!

Peyton had her first well visit with a pediatrician since her whole cancer gig started. We happened to see the doctor that was the doc that ordered the blood tests that led to her diagnosis. His was the first voice I ever heard that used the words “your daughter” and “cancer” in the same sentence. I had this weird feeling in the office with all these kids that aren’t going through what she is, sitting outside the office in the truck because I can’t imagine letting her sit in a waiting room full of sneezing, coughing, runny nose, stuffy head, Nyquil-commercial-candidates. I heard the parents talking about how inconvenient it is to have to take the day off of work to run the kid in to be checked out. I heard one tell her daughter “You’d better be really sick for all the trouble you’re causing.”

I wanted to run over and slap that woman’s face and tell her “Don’t ever say that! Be glad if you get to walk out of here and it was nothing. Don’t ever take her health for granted! Are you stupid? Are you blind? Because I was!” Because the memory is so fresh in my mind of what it felt like to sit in that office and roll my eyes at a fever, waiting to hear about the strep or viral infection that was causing it. Walking out confident in my child’s tomorrow.

And 18 hours later having that tomorrow shattered into a million pieces.

The ped was happy with her regular progress, her height is in the lower range of normal, her weight in the higher range of normal…ahh, just like her mama I guess…and her eyes are great, heart sounds normal, everything fine and dandy. We talked about vaccinations that aren’t up to date, there are some that she just can’t have. Kids with suppressed immune systems can’t have any live vaccines, but there are still some she should have and can have. The other two kids are up to date on theirs, but he also said that there are adult vaccines that Peter and I should check into. Overall, he was pretty happy to see her looking so good and he said that he gets regular reports to add to her files from the oncologist’s office.

An interesting thing that he did was put on her school reports that she’s “normal”, as he put it. He didn’t want to make an issue of her having cancer because he didn’t want to be a problem with getting her into daycares or school. It didn’t even occur to me that it would, but I guess it could be. She’s already been turned down for life insurance…through Gerber! That sort of hurt. It made me realize that this was a lifelong thing and perhaps she’ll always have trouble getting insurance because of it. She will darn sure never be able to go without private insurance, she may be uncoverable, but I don’t know if there’s a time when she’s been in remission long enough that it won’t matter anymore.

Other than that we had a pretty ordinary day. I took the kids bowling again…and Rachael managed to do that thing where she bounces the ball between the bumpers….again. We also found out that using a ball to try to bounce another ball down the lane doesn’t work, apparently the shuffleboard method doesn’t work on bowling balls.

And I have to share Rachael’s new confounding idea. This child has to have a nightlight. She has a lamp in her bedroom because a small outlet nightlight wasn’t enough to get her through. For a while we had to leave the hallway and bathroom lights on so she could get to sleep. When we’ve been in hotel and such, we HAVE to leave the bathroom light on so she can lay there or she just says “It’s too dark” over and over again. Obviously all those Stephen King books I read while pregnant did a real number on her.

She comes to me tonight and asks for a sleep mask.

Right.

“You know those go over your eyes, Rachael.”

“Yes, but I want one.”

“Why?”

“Because sometimes it’s too bright in my room at night.”

“We could just turn off the nightlight.”

“NO! Then it’s too dark!”

“What does it matter if the mask goes over your eyes and you can’t tell if it’s too light or dark anyways?”

“I’ll just know if it’s too dark, mom, I’ll just KNOW.”

Ok, whatever, I’ll let your therapist deal with that down the road someday.

f.r.o.G…fully relying on God
–Anissa