Thanksgiving and ThanksTaking

It is always a bit of both.  Give a little, take a little.  Leave a little. 

So we cooked.  People came. People ate. Food mounded on the table.  Our tiny turkey of only 21 pounds went on to feed the world. It took three days to do the dishes but what the heck.  Better to spend time together with Friends and Family then to have a clean house.   

For some reason I find I am doing lots of breath holding. But tests are coming and I am always afraid of what they will find.  I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. The one that will stick to the floor and not return. I know it is nuts to trust the Universe and also Nuts to not trust the Universe. Childhood Cancer is such a monster. A hideous multi-headed Medusa. Enough. So many kids did not make it to this Thanksgiving and more will be missing next year.  Losses just make it more important to keep going and gathering those we love close and closer. 

 Looking forward and not backward. Pretending there is a long future but know it is not the case for everyone.  So as the knives slip into their designated places, I plan for Christmas Eve.  Crab Bisque, Beecher Cheese and Tomato Soup.  Come one, Come all. Come for the adoration of the Soup Tureen. (We even found the soup bowls)  

Life Changing Moments

I spent some time in the Central Valley.  A place we all know of, but few visit.  It is where our food comes from. Lots of our food.  Every square inch of the valley is producing lots and lots of food.  Who knew grapes were left on the vine to dry and become raisins?  They cut the canes and let them sit for a while and shrivel.  Love seeing "3 avocados for $1.25".  Oranges on the trees, yards with fruit trees, all orange and yummy this time of year.  Need some lemons, walk around the block and help a tree be unburdened a bit.

The Valley is flat and stretches for miles.  It is dusty and windy but a bit of rain fell.  When the wind shifts there is the odor of cows being raised too close together.  It is a lot like much of rural/agricultural America.  Lots of little towns, some, like Visalia have a real down town.  Walmart is there but kept on the edges.  It is California in some ways: In-n-Out Burger, Orange Trees, crazy drivers.  It is also sort of Southern Idaho: Big Pick-ups, large fields needing to be harvested, great Mexican Restaurants, the babble of Spanish.  

Look west and the Coastal Range is in view. Then, 50 miles East, the beginning of the Sierra Mountains.  They spring up from the Valley floor.  A bit of foothill action but when you start to climb, you climb fast.  Up, Up, 1000 feet, 2000, 3000, 5ooo.....Weird trees cover the sides of  the mountains. Some deciduous trees, mostly big pines and scrub of some sort. 

 Then there are the rocks, big rocks.  The kind that could down a Seattle ferry if it dropped on it.  Big.  Did I mention big.  Huge, massive

• colossalstar
• enormousstar
• extensivestar
• gargantuanstar
• giantstar
• giganticstar
• greatstar
• humongousstar

• immensestar
• magnificentstar
• mammothstar
• massivestar
• monstrousstar
• monumentalstar
• toweringstar
• tremendousstar

• vaststar
• behemothicstar
• bulkystar
• cyclopeanstar
• elephantinestar
• grossstar
• immeasurablestar
• jumbostar

• leviathanstar
• lustystar
• mightystar
• mondostar
• monsterstar
• mountainousstar
• outsizestar
• oversizestar

• planetarystar
• prodigiousstar
• stupendousstar
• titanicstar
• wallopingstar
• 
  
• whoppingstar

 rocks..... get my drift.  So You climb, you drive along and then you enter the valley through a very long, dug by hand tunnel.  This is what you see

It is simply magical. I don't know what to even say.  I have seen the pictures.  I simply was not prepared.  I got out of the car and I just sat there with a dropped jaw.  I was sort of like the first time I saw the Grand Canyon, the Leaning Tower, Devil's Tower, the Pacific Ocean, a whale, a hummingbird in the snow.  

We all talk about God and Creation and the Big Bang and the Universe. We are amazed how fast an e-mail can travel or simply the wonder of electricity.  But this. This place is a reminder that good and beautiful things take a long time.  They can not be rushed or pushed or even nudged along. 

This special place was made with the gift of time. First the mountains pushed way way up, the water brought them down and a valley was born.  The world turned cold, the glaciers filled the valley and then moved the rocks with them.  Left them as the glacier moved and worked and pushed into the central valley.    

I have no words, just a reminder that important things take time. A lesson I need to learn as we approach year three of the transplant. 

Digging Deep and Moving On

Trying to move on is sometimes problematic.  Something we learn very early on that no matter what, the world does not stop.  It keeps moving forward and we keep spinning. It is hard sometimes to step back onto the fast track if you have been hanging out in another dimension.  You know when you are part of the world but not really.  A bit out of step.  A time of exploration and eventual re-entry.  I am working hard on the re-entry part right now. 

No matter what, there is to be daily activity moving life forward. Another class, a long walk, a trip to the grocery store, a book to read, a bit of laundry. Job Applications,  The usual.  

All of Seattle has been in a deep freeze.  I am not sure how cold, I can only observe what the hummingbirds signal.  Each night the feeder freezes.  Each morning I put the warm feeder out at a bout 7 a.m.  I am greeted with a bitty bitty bird scolding me for not waking up earlier.  I try to explain to him that I am shocked he is already up.  I know when he tucks himself into a snuggly part of the pine tree, he goes into a kind of hibernation.  I suggested to him this morning, he might wait a few more minutes.  I have found that earlier delivery of the feeder causes freezing in the bitter cold. 

I guess he and I have a lot in common.  We don't like to wait.

Oh well.  Waiting is highly over-rated.  My daughter complains all the time that I should be patient.  I don't see why that is a virtue.  Okay, maybe it is but there is a huge difference between waiting and being passive.  I am just a little more Pro-active in my dotage. 

I will keep moving forward.  Trusting in the motion and the actions of what needs to be done.  I submit to the demands of those that hound me for sustenance

 and rejoice in the fact I can actually deliver a bit each day. 

So.... Now What?

I have never worked at being Debbie Downer.  I strive to make bad things good, find some sort of lining, even if it is not silver.  I take each moment and forward endless good energy into the universe.  I really try.  

But there are times and days it is so so hard.  Childhood Cancer death just seeps through the cracks.  Like the nano size dust during the Dust Bowl Days. 

No matter what we do, it is coming and there is often no stopping it. That is how cancer feels to families.  It just keeps coming.  Between deaths of children, young, and in their teens. Relapses and complications and fevers and endless endless diagnosis, it sometimes feels so frustrating.  

The Santa's are out for photo opportunities.  Families are planning Thanksgiving and Christmas events and New Year get aways.  In the shadows are those that are mourning the loss of it all.  Many for their child. Many for the loss of wonder and simple joy of childhood.  I know kids that have been sick as long as they remember.  It is all they remember.  It just makes me so so upset.

  I am tempted sometimes to just slam that door and try and forget that even though we are in a good spot for now.  We have no long term warranty.  Not that anyone does, we are just so much more aware of the lack of safety net.  

So tonight I go to the home of a great friend and we work out a way to make the Wishing Rock Project a real viable thing.  We keep delivering small bags of necessary items to those devastated by childhood cancer.  It think it comes under "it's the thought".  So many things impossible to solve. Sometimes it is enough to try and take care of just a tiny bit at a time. 

Below is a link to Jai Anderson's blog.  They are in the fight of their child's life.  ALL is awful.  AML is the worst. 

http://conglomerationofjoy.com.  

Leaf Shuffling

I can't help but shuffle through the leaves when they are on the ground in the fall.  I have watched certifiable grown-ups deliberately take their feet and move them on the ground.... shshhhh, shshhhush the sound flies

 into the air.  A simple sound. A sound of fall. A sound that requires only a bit of extra energy and a few leaves.  Not much. 

Ballard, our neighborhood is not very shuffler friendly.  Trees with leaves are not usually welcome.  I have been told by many a person that if you have trees, the leaves fall. They must be raked, they must composted, they must be contained. 

But there is something about those moments when containment seems wrong.  I saw a mom show her toddler how to shuffle.  They went back and forth and back and forth.  I am not good at containing my leaves in a timely fashion.  Sometimes it is just a good thing to let them sit there, dry a bit, become crisp and noisy.  

Something about shuffling leaves and raking leaves and, in my day, burning leave... something organic and invigorating. Taking something simple, something to be discarded and making it a good thing.  

The leaves come, the leaves drop, the leaves are ferreted away.  What is reassuring is the tree, the searching roots, the reaching branches and the promise there will be new leaves in the spring. 

Right now things are going quiet.  We are going to head into real cold and darkness.  It is a time to recharge. To use the quiet to reflect on what has happened and to be introspective.  Quiet moments, quiet times.  

It is important to trust this time as a good time.  I am working on doing just that.... 

Wishing Rock Project

So, How do I explain Wishing Rock to the group at Gonzaga that is going to put together a fabulous web site for us?. 

This project was born out of knowledge and experiences from ten years in what I call Cancer World.   I was not the primary ticket holder but the companion fare.  My daughter was diagnosed twice with Leukemia before her 20th birthday. As the Mom, I scrambled to manage all the the cancer stuff and regular life.  Sometimes it was easier than other times.

Because it is all about survival and we are survivors at heart and pretty good campers, we figured out some pretty important things.  Some from the first stint and lots from the second trip down the rabbit hole.  One thing we always had was our "hospital bags".  They contained our survival kits.  Certain cloths, a bag of toothpaste, good hair stuff, the usual.  But we also soon had a special small part of the bag devoted to Magic and Prayers. Sort of a charm pouch.

Special pictures, a bendy skeleton from a special roommate, a hospital approved candle, a Zuni fetish. A magic blanket, the right pillow.  Things to focus good energy.  I of course had a very good china cup that traveled with me.  I could not drink endless morning coffee in paper.  It was something we perfected over the many many moons of treatment and hospitalizations.  So we survived and we escaped but one if never truly free of Cancer World.  It live around the edges of our lives. 

So about a year ago I heard about three families with new diagnosis on Christmas Eve.  Hello, Merry Christmas, Your life is now changed forever.....  

It pulled at my heart in a way I had never experienced. I was compelled to do something for the families.  So I put together a bag.  

It has changed over the year but it has some things that are helpful and some that are "just because".  So the bags contain the following

A bag... a nice bag for hauling stuff, laundry, food, stuff.  Reusable.
A china mug for good coffee drinking
A Starbucks card because they have one at the hospital
A couple of tea bags because the nurses have instant hot water.
A magazine because no one can read anything more comprehensive
A small wind chimes.  We found they make the multiple pumps that beep all the time, much happier.
A nice bead from the Mom's.  There is a Beads of Courage program for the kids but the moms often need them too.
A Wishing Rock. (Wishing rocks represent a sudden and complete interruption in a life  But show that after the interruption, life can continue.  A blip of sorts. 
Mint gum.
Thank-you notes with stamps.
Some Mint Water if we can find it.

A little bag of magic.

I also include a letter with some practical advice like, Get someone to take out your garbage, do your laundry. Sweep up your front stoop.... I put the list in because people in crisis don't know what they need and at the beginning of the process everyone wants to help.  I have found that giving people meaningful jobs helps keep them around.   People want to help. They don't want to intrude but they have open giving hearts and need some positive direction. Someone who has had a child in Cancer World really understands.  It also has to be okay for people to ask for help.  That is so so hard.  We are generally good at giving but not very good at accepting or asking.  

so... We have a Facebook Page.  Wishing Rock Project.  We have some great initial contributors.  We have figured out the "how to get the stuff to the right people"  problem solved. 

Hey Gonzaga Class, thanks for helping us set up a web site.  I have the domain name in the bag.  We are a legitimate Washington State Non-Profit Corporation.  We have not yet filed for the Feds yet.  They want 400 dollars and a year or two of time to see if we are real. At some point we will make that leap.  Right now we are just chugging along. One bag of magic at a time. 

 Clearly it is needed. 

Fear and Loathing of Relapse

I have mentioned in the past the "R" words that live with those of us in Cancer World.  Remission.... our favorite.
Relapse or Re-Occurrence....... ones we fear and loathe. 

What we know is that sometimes remission does not happen.  In ALL ( Acute Lymphoblastic  Leukemia) world the kids are supposed to achieve remission after 7 days of treatment. Meb's was a bit more stubborn and but she was in remission by September 13, 2004.  A full course of treatment (high risk because of her age, her presentation and her failure to achieve remission in 7 days).  Life seemed to great.  Of course 7 years and two weeks after remission her cancer came back. Big time. 

RELAPSE /RE-OCCURRENCE.

Bam.... No real warning. No inkling that something was wrong. Nothing.  Kid looks great. She is in school, she is thriving,  she has this thing beat.  She is headed out into a new a wonderful universe.  Nothing will stop her.  

Wrong.  Oh we  were so wrong.  We had to do another circle of the moon and hope that by firing our reserve rockets we could make it back home.  We did. 

But the spaceship is pretty damaged. The occupants are weary and sometimes it is hard to face the world.  We know there is no guarantee things will stay in the correct trajectory. No way to know what tomorrow will bring. I'm not too sure when we will ever trust that there will many tomorrows.  

We do know that when it comes back, in any form, it does with the fury of the exploding sun.  We are reminded of this often. 

It is back for our dear little friend Allistiare. She had AML when Meb relapsed in 2011 and then she relapsed and then she did so again and then she had a very risky Bone Marrow transplant and now... Now something is back. Something is starting and they know how it will manifest itself. Just having it back, even in little bits they know it is bad.   They don't know if there are many options or where they are headed to figure this all out. 

I love these people, they are family in a special way.  Jai and I had many a cup of coffee during the long transplant months. Sten is great and stoic and a wonderful father.  He always smiles and stays in the moment with a calm I don't know how to master.

It has taken me almost a week to write about this most awful of relapses.  I thought if I didn't say something it would go away.  It would be a bad X-ray tech in Bozemen. It was just a mistake.  It can't happen to such a sweet child. 

As I have wrestled with all of this, cancer and cancer families and families being told to go home to hospice and children dying and this heavy cloud that closes in on me, I have come to a realization.   If there was a good thing to do to make it all better I would have figured it out.  If there was a bit of magic or some secret or special charm, in 10 years, I would have figured it out.  

There are no right words. No right actions. No right answers.  (Now granted there are lots of wrong ones but that is for another day.)  So the only thing I can do is listen. Ponder. Respond. React in a thoughtful way. Have lots of chocolate and Starbucks on hand.  

I can do that. 

Jai, Allistiare's mom is an amazing writer.  Here is the link to her blog.  I would suggest a glass of wine in-hand before you start.  
http://conglomerationofjoy.com/

Gonzaga Parent's Weekend

Practical Suggestions for Cancer World Families

So we all know that this blog has been about Surviving Childhood Cancer.  I have belly ached and whined and cried and cheered when appropriate.  

I am a member of a group called Momcology and there the Cancer Mom's of the world kibitz and the smiles are less prominent because we don't have to make everyone okay with the fact our children are so so sick and often die.  The group grows every day and every day there is a bit of hope, a lot of despair and hopelessness. It is a real representation of Childhood Cancer.    Moms that are just starting, Mom's ending, Mom's with kids that have relapsed and died.  It is not a happy happy place but It made me wonder why ti seems such a good place to hang out. 

Many supportive friends have helped us all through this difficult process. We have been the beneficiaries of much giving, both time and money and practical actions. Much prayer, encouragement and cheerful wishes.

 I was reading something about a woman in an emergency room and another patient looked at her and said:  "Everything happens for a reason."  The writer wanted to yank the woman's hair out.  I am a bit more forgiving. As Cancer Mom's we don't even know how to respond to the words that swirl around us.  Things like Chemo Therapy, Radiation, 40% chance of survival are common words in our vocabulary.  We no longer live in mainstream universe. We are off somewhere in a place that looks like our world but with a heavy dose of Twilight Zone set dressing.  

So here are some ideas the next time someone posts their kid is having a rough time or you hear about a family that is going to be dealing with long term health issues, don't just respond with "I am praying for you."  While that is nice an all, send them a gift card, no amount is too small.  Go the the blood bank and donate blood.  If you live in the same town, go and promise to take out their garbage every week. Rake their leaves. Organize a meal train for the family not in the hospital. Make the child or parent a really soft pillow case from all that fabric you have in the basement.  Connect.  The kids love I-Tunes, Target, Victoria Secret gift cards. Cash in your miles so a family member can travel. 

Trust me it does not take much. As the blogger pointed out today:

  if you want to help someone in distress, buy her a cup of coffee or a cocktail. Tell her you have experience something similar and you feel much better now. Tell her you understand how she feels, how unfair her circumstance is and how much it can hurt when fortune frowns on you. Smile. Tell her you are sorry she had some bad luck.

Bluntmoms.com

Nothing Prepares us for the Death of a Child.

I remember when I was first pregnant with Mary-Elizabeth I was convinced I would never ever be ready to give birth.  I later looked back and realized all the sleepless nights, the getting up at at the oddest times to use the bathroom, all the discomfort that robbed me from sleep was preparation for after the birth. The birth for which I could not wait.... 

Life prepares you for what is coming your way. Little by little.  We roll over, we sit, we crawl, we pull ourselves up, we walk, we run... Much of what happens in the way of preparation happens in a simple way.  It sort of sneaks up and and at some point you are readied for the next task.  Unfortunately, sometimes the preparation is not for good things. 

I was visiting with a Cancer World Mom the other day and she related how she felt the early challenges with her child had prepared her for the Leukemia Battle.  I am a great believer in this idea and concept. It's the old "what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger" concept.  I have had way too much practice and experience, not in a good thing by the way.... 

Cancer Parents are reminded and buffeted every day with loss and the child death.  Every time a child dies, or one is dying or may die, the pit in the stomach is made wider and deeper.  As parents there is no adequate way for us to prepare for what is coming.  We all loose a gold fish, a bird, a cat or a dog.  We then loose our grandparents and extended family members and parents.  It sort of gets us ready for the next steps in the journey.  It paves the way, it gives some practice at handling the pain and emptiness that follows the death. 

 I so distinctly remember being unable to breath when my dad died.  As much as he is missed, it was okay that he was gone.  He had a great life. He did the things he cared about, he helped people, he ate BBQ in Magnolia, Arkansas, he read good books, he spent time with people he loved and in places he loved.  His lose was gigantic at first and then time seemed to make it okay.  At unexpected moments a memory will pop back or an item will present itself and it begins again.  The horrible feeling of emptiness piles up again.  It has been almost 20 years since my Grandmother died and I still think about sending her something or calling her.  

All of these parent and elder loses is the universe preparing us for the endings that are coming.  Giving us some prospective on the end of this life and how to best make the transitions.  Helping clean out a family home teaches us about the need to pare down and to focus on what little we need for the future.  The slow decline of a parent or a family member lets us practice and prepare for our trip down that particular rabbit hole and for their death.  

We are still always shocked and horrified and breathless when they die.  If it is sudden or if it is long and lingering.  We are still in a "state".  It should be a shock and heart break.  Those we lose are so important to us.  The greater the feeling of emptiness, the deeper the love we were able to share when they were with us in physical form.  It is a part of life, the ebbing and flowing of tides. 

So.... when a child dies before a parent we are stuck.  We don't know how to move on... even months and years afterwards, the wound is fresh and open and throbbing.  The reason being there is no way on this green earth for us to have any way to prepare. Death of a child is not supposed to happen. They are our little bit of immortality, the continuation of our story, they hold the future.  The pattern of understanding is simply dismantled in a blink of an eye.  It is over.  

I still have my child, she is away at school but we have looked long and hard at the brink and often slipped dreadfully close.  We have watched other's headed down that sad and solitaire path.  No one can join, relieve, help, or comfort those on the road to child loss.  They are on the mountain alone.  

From a comfortable distance, it is easy to say "why don't they stop treatment?"  "Why don't they go home?" "Don't they know it's over?"  I have to be honest, I have thought this at some point.  I guess it comes from seeing the suffering of everyone.  But then how do we ever be alright about stopping the treatment of our children? A cure, a reprieve, a new study, a new medicine. A new......   It is so so hard. 

Nothing ever gets us ready.  We have too much experience and know what our kids are missing during treatment and what they will be missing in the future.  We have to trim back our expectations and the dreams of their lives.  

When that lovely little squiggly life is put into our arms we just don't have it in us to think "Our child might die a horrible long agonizing death from childhood cancer."  It is not on the radar. At the beginning of life, we don't often think about death. 

I wish it was not on any one's radar.  It seem lately more and more parents are facing this horrible end to their child's life.  Keep them in your hearts. While we can't prepare, we can be supportive and helpful and if nothing else, sit and have a cup of coffee with them and let them tell you a good memory.

Giving Back...... Can we really accomplish our goals?

So we have moved into Breast Cancer Awareness month.  Lots of people are really freaked out by the apparent lack of interest in Childhood Cancer.  The month has turned pink.  Let's be honest, I was not aware that September was a month for such things until a year ago.

So I am a bit dense and was not aware that it was a fund raising month.  I guess awareness requires money.  It is such a conundrum.  I know it is important and very necessary.  I know that we need to figure things out. I also know that the Mom's whose kids have been affected by the horrible disease want to fix it for others. We all want to "give back" to those that helped and made our lives livable during the ordeal. 

Mom taught us this lesson. The reality is that we can't "Give Back".  It is not a possibility to do so in any meaningful way.  The family that dropped off the meal doesn't expect to have a meal returned.  It is not reasonable to think we can. I know when I do something for someone, I don't enter it into the ledger and expect something in return.  It is a gift for now.  

We have to pay it forward.  I realized I need to stop trying to re-pay everyone and just move the good things I could do forward. 

I remember the moment Mom practiced what she preached.  We were at the California State Wrestling Meet in San Jose California.  David was competing and we had gathered for the event.  Mom and Dad had come from Canada, I was there from Dietrich Idaho. David was a Senior.  We had been at the ticket booth and there was a women with a small child.  It was very apparent she had paid for entry with 100% of her cash, the only form of payment they took.  She had planned on using her credit card.  We met again in the bathroom and Mom asked her if she needed some money.  She explained her brother-in-law was a light weight and she has indeed used all her cash.  

Mom gave her 50.00 and the recipient wrote her a check for $50.00.  Mom tore up the check and put the part with the name and address in her billfold.  She then explained: "When I get home, I am going to write her a letter.  I am going to explain that when your father was in medical school people sent us money, money we desperately needed.  We tried to pay it back and were told by more then one person it was more important to help someone in the future.  In every life, the opportunity will arise for such a gesture.  Her job was to  pass it on."  

She never said another thing about it and we went in to the Arena to watch David become California State Champion. 

September a month of Contraditions

It is Pediatric Cancer Awareness month.  I have been aware of Pediatric Cancer for way too long but never really knew it was the month of awareness for until last year.  I am not sure when this all started but September has been significant for a bunch of reasons.

September 13, 2004:  Date of first remission.
September 28, 2011:  Date of Relapse
September 30, 2014:  Things seem to be fine.

So I am working on loving September since we are having good news for two out of three times. 

My questions for today are:  Now What?.

Its time, very much time for me to start generating money in a constant and steady manner.  More efforts in networking, redrafting my resume and then seeing what I need to do to convince someone I am exactly the right person for the job.

I will keep trying... Because if we have learned nothing about the past few Septembers... Trying is the only option.  Eventually you get good news. 

Lessons from Cancer Mom Parenting.

This was published in the Huffington Post.

  http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jessica-bensten/20-things-a-cancer-mom-knows-by-heart_b_5800640.html

I didn't write it but could have.  I am working on my list. 

I learned that kids can get cancer when Jackson was 1 year old. He'd just learned to walk. He still wore OshKosh B'gosh overalls and loved to be rocked to sleep. There was nothing that he did wrong, or was exposed to; one day, there was just a lump.

Chemo. Radiation. Surgery. Stem cell transplant. Immunotherapy. Intensive Care. Oncology. Even though it's been four and a half years since he finished treatment, some days it feels like it was yesterday.

At times, I think I was born the day Jackson was diagnosed. The world falls silent as cancer shuts out all the background noise of work stress, mortgages, that extra 10 pounds or what's on TV. It awakens a level of empathy to suffering and an awareness to what's truly important in life.

Once a cancer mom, always a cancer mom. These are 20 things I know by heart:

1. It is the most unnatural thing in the world to be told your child has cancer.
2. There's nothing you can do or say to take it away from them. There's no fixing it.
3. Babies can be born with cancer.
4. Toddlers can lie on the floor and throw a tantrum while having cancer.
5. Little Leaguers will miss their games because of cancer.
6. Teenagers can go straight from the hospital to high school graduation, then right back to the hospital.
7. Children can often handle higher doses of chemo than adults.
8. Kids can play hide-and-seek, chase each other in toy cars and build an epic Play-Doh creation, all while toting an IV pole with chemo.
9. Treatment straight up sucks.
10. I can feel a fever without even touching my child.
11. There's such a thing as radioactive urine. And I've changed that diaper.
12. Sleeping in a hospital bed with a sick child teaches you interesting life skills, like the ability to wake from a sound sleep, grab a bucket and catch vomit.
13. Some kids can have the opposite reactions to medications... like for instance, something that makes an adult sleepy might amp a child up. Having a toddler stuck on "fast forward" will make you bone-weary.
14. The first scar is always the worst. Taking that beautiful, soft baby skin and seeing it cut open is like ripping your heart out.
15. You realize nothing is as important anymore as getting your child well.
16. A mother's love knows no bounds. Not even being puked on, directly in the face.
17. You'll never forget the smooth, sticky feeling of a bald head against your cheek.
18. Every ache and pain, no matter how long your child's been in remission, will remind you that cancer can come back.
19. Statistics don't mean a damn thing when it comes to your child.
20. Kids never give up. And neither do their parents.