Dear Mary-Elizabeth

I'm  not sure how much you know about what I have been through.  I think you guess a lot but have tried to keep focused on your journey.  As you know WE had cancer.  WE had a relapse. WE had a Double Cord Blood Transplant.  But you have returned to your life and I am sort of waiting for mine to be found again. 

 I think I have been looking in all the wrong places.  It is such a weird thing to loose your way when  you are not ready to be done with your working life.  It just seems unreal. I am not ready to step back from the world just yet.  I still feel 18 and have lots to offer.  I am just wiser than I used to be.  I have seem more, felt more and lost more.  This next part needs to be good because, let's face it, I am a bit more than middle-aged. 

This last week I have had a chance to re-connect with some friends.  They say you can see yourself most clearly in the eyes of others.  It is always good to see a positive reflections.  And to be honest, I don't think it was just the good wine we drank.

I think I might have to turn back a bit to law. To figure out a way to use my specialized skill set but not be eaten alive.  I have realized that to do the Family Law piece the way I did it, I took on the pain of the family.  It was woven into my being,  I don't have that capacity any more.  My own pain and worry have filled that part of my being.  

Okay, let me see if I can figure that out.... 

Startling Discoveries

All my life I have heard about "3 Minute Eggs".  I am a lover of soft boiled eggs.  Egg cups, Eire Shires (egg scissors) and small spoons are just added fun.  But the fact is I have never been able to perfect the process. 

Boiled the water, dropped in the eggs, watched them break, never quite right.  Three Minutes did not seem to work, 5 was too much.  I just settled.  No big deal. Just looked for the right kind of runny but could easily eat hard eggs.  

Then, it occurred to me maybe what they meant was 3 minutes of boiling if you started them in cold water.  Ever the curious scientist, I did just that.... 3 eggs, cold water, and 3 minutes of boiling.  What could be easier?   

And it works. 

Moral of the story:
1. You are never too old to try something a different way.

Cancer Mom Counting...

We count the numbers of doses of Chemo Therapy. We count the number of times they have invaded our children's spines with Chemo. We count the number of days between doses. We ask them to recount when blood counts are high and when they are low. We count how many days before the end. We count how far from the end we are.  We count.

We count to control and put some sense to our world and to feel like we have some control.  We like "to know" what is happening, or might be happening or what might not be happening.  

Our world does not make sense to there has to be some sort of mechanism to help.  

Treatment is easy.  It is set out, it has a plan. It has steps and goals and procedures. It has something called a Road Map.  Not quite AAA but darn close.  It lets you know where you are going and how you are going to get there.  Then some are luck to have an Advanced Nurse practitioner that gives you great calendars and a key to the Road Map.  Yes, there are bumps and count failures and lots of complications but it is a plan.  It has a defined end. 

1+1=2
3x6=18

101, 121, 314, 151, 617, 181, 920, 212, ___, ___
 What's next?

Being off treatment is a different story.  I am sitting here, counting down the days before Mary-Elizabeth goes back to college and I don't know what to think or how to react.  

Now what?  Do we count the transplant for the magic 60 month count down?  Do we just hold our breath and count until the next long term side effect appears?  We know the leukemia she had is gone.  Will there be something else to show up?  When will it come? Will we recognize it in time? Will we ever feel safe again? Shall I count my questions?

Maybe I will count the days until the worry does not greet me first thing in the morning.  Lots will tell me not to worry, she looks great and it has been a long time and she will go forth and thrive.   What is missing for me is the trust.  I trusted before and that got us 57 months off treatment and a relapse.

If you are sensing of a bit resentment and anger, very good.  Yes, my child has survived her Double Cord Blood Transplant.  But there is a price for survival.  No one comes out unscathed.  

Okay, get back from the deep despair and anger Sally Ann, You have to clean out your car and pack your child for college.  You have to see there through surgery on Monday.  You can do it. You have done it so far and you can make this last lap. 

I think we see the end of the Tunnel

I can see. 

I can hear it,

 I can taste it, 

I can feel it. 

The end is near. 

I am ready but I am not holding my breath.

When I was a law student, My parents lived in exotic locations… like Canada and Switzerland.  One of Dad’s benefits was that we could fly three times a year to visit our parents.  It was a pretty wonderful perk.  We would hop on planes and head out to great vacations. 

The thought of those times was pretty exciting and if I thought about what happened after the last final, I would lose focus.  So I learned to slam a door tight until I was done.   I knew what was behind the door but I did not receive the key until everything was wrapped up.

So…. The door is slammed shut…

So here we are the remaining tasks before we are given the key.

1.     Endocrinology

2.    Big appointments with SCCA

3.    Port Removal

Three things. Three tasks, Then we can look through the door.  Look at the other side. Look at the  world again.  Not confined by all the Bone Marrow Transplant rules.

She is already stepping out.  She has broken rules hard and fast rules……. She had sprouts on her sandwich and

Raw cookie dough….

More shocking and normal things live beyond the end of the Tunnel and we are ready

y.

                                                                                                                                                              

Sitting on the Porch drinking Coffee

So Meb is sleeping. She is almost settled into her apartment.  We saw the accommodation people.  They were a bit scared of me for no good reason.   Then we met with the head of the health center.  No doctor will ever send her away telling her to go sleep.  We have hit every retail facility in the Spokane Valley and have another full day ahead of us.    

Sort of calm. A few rip tides. Some sneaker waves but all-in-all it is good.