Thirty Three Months.
Tomorrow.
October 13, 2018
Truth is, it's a miracle.
I suppose the take home for me is the steps he takes in the journey. The good days shine so bright. So much brighter than the bad days.
In this journey we've lost acquaintances we met along the way. And we've encouraged and helped others in the beginning stages too. More me, than him. I notice he steers away pretty quickly.
My other littlest birdie pushed me to stop following some I do in the ring because according to her, it's depleting my good energy.
Who's to blame her. She knows I'm a sensitive soul. Yet, I lean towards helping. Sometimes the two collide.
So, thirty three months. I remember the first year counting weeks. Counting months.
Disregarding the 100 day thing like nothin, and yet I look back and it was a HUGE deal.
Things I want to share with you all at this point are things that can help others.
I wouldn't wish this journey, and our fight on anyone. I wish I could cure my son from the ailments he suffers from today. I wish he could toss back some brews with friends and sleep like a baby. Side note: He does have a beer occasionally, and like yesterday he took a helicopter ride to the island to shoot a friends wedding and had a shot of Hennessy before they boarded..because, well, nerves.
A helicopter ride to the island was probably the most bad-ass feeling a human can feel.
I shared with him this morning how years ago I was so fearful of planes. And now, just going down the runway brings walloping tears to my eyes. Tears that fall. (freak).
Thirty three months of med changes. A mom that has lost her shit in the pharmacy twice.
They know me by name. They make mistakes. They've sent me home with half doses, to have me go back the next day, and the day after that. So, Mrs. Stahl double checks things and calls them out on attitudes, because (WE DIDN'T WANT THIS TASK)-
I've watched my son dry heave most mornings while the world is sipping coffee and tea.
I've made more appointments for knees that are hurting so bad. Butty (his butt) issues that now require a biopsy. Dermatology appointments for growths on his fingers. Podiatry for his feet.
Radiation?
Chemo?
Thirty three months.
A mom that fills your reading eyes with the same ol' cry baby sad story every now and then.
This is our journey.
It's mine to share.
I am so glad I can sit with him for dinner on Monday nights. His silly witty side.
He persuaded me to clean out our hutch so he can hang a TV stand. That hutch was filled with things that captivated me for way too long. Pictures.
Looking back on days that felt so mundane. Special "field trips" for school that I went on with him.
I used to meet him for lunch in middle school. It was close to work, so I'd bring lunch and we'd all sit together.
Pictures of Kali and him as little birds. Camping.
Well, I camped once. I hated it.
They did too.
Thirty three months.
We tossed the rest of the gauze, green stoppers for that IV thing, medical tape, and alcohol swabs into the trash. Later that evening I realized I should have donated them. And then realized it was just what Kali told me a couple weeks ago..."mom, let it go".
Thirty three months.
He's so into succulents and cactus. Growing these things like it's his business.
Here's the thing about succulents. They grow better when they're together.
They grow better in bunches, and less water. They have a dude that gives them his best on his best days. They wait if he's feeling down. Because they're just tough.
Just like him.
Thirty Three Months.
Kris, I am so proud of you. I love you with all I can.
I'll fight like hell for you, in pharmacies, appointment call centers, and with cocky orthopedic doctors. Doctors are humans too, and some are just outright assholes.
I will always fight for you.
We'll celebrate 3 years in January, God willing.
I'll most likely still reach out to those I can in the fight. Little suggestions I can give.
Not everyone fights the same. But we all have something inside that hurts. And if I can help in anyway...I most certainly will.
Here's things to know...
Graft Versus Host Sharing so you can understand what he has now- And most recipients get. But he's alive!
Red Cross Blood and platelets saved Kris' life more than once. Platelets are in such need right now, especially those in the active fight!
City Of Hope- Saved his life.
City Of Hope- Saved his life.
I hope you all have a beautiful weekend....
Love,
Mama Lisa
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