Yesterday morning started as any normal Monday. A mental sorting ritual. I'm sure all of you go through the same thing. Whether retired, working ants, or homestead. We all sort through our pages in this life. For me it starts with my birdies. From birdies to work. From work to me. From me to Bill. From Bill to the layout of my week. This time of year things get a little busy. I toss some crazy shiz around in my head at 5am. Things seem to smooth out once I step outta bed and head toward the kitchen.
Kris and I bolted down to Hollywood yesterday. Our appointment generally falls between 1-3pm. We usually arrive at noon. Upon arrival we'd hear our doctor was running late due to a couple of very sick patients in the hospital. As a patient and family member you take those words wholeheartedly with every ounce of respect. Agreeing we'd walk to have lunch (although neither of us were hungry).
Once returning I'd hand out my gifts to each nurse "Imie" and "Anna" (both take my mama-warrior-soul like a grain of salty salt) along with "Teri" our original coordinator. A woman whom listened to me lose my shit one day last year as they wanted to hit him with round 4 (week long and 16 bags of chemo's) I'd plea for a request for someone to reach out to our current oncologist to consult with transplant team to stretch it another week for donor's request, yet the mercy of not tearing him down further, after all he was already in remission. I remember Teri pleading with me to "breathe mom, take a breath..."- I'd soon apologize, regaining my composure. Yet, repeating my request. It was 5 days before Christmas. Requesting a consultation of doctors. Knowing they'd be hitting him with lethal doses of radiation and chemo in two weeks. My warrior research was paying off. Even with tears. And freak out moments. As I hugged and handed Teri the gift we brought her, I was reminded of her love for the job she's in. She always affirms my love for my son- She has children the same age.
Dr. Sahebi would make her way to get us. Opening the door for her big hug to Kris. Always always giving us big hugs. Lots of love. His counts look FANTASTIC! He's battling yet another cold. With a weakened immune system, anything and everything sticks to him like dust on a dust cloth. Not to mention he's back in the gym (eh ya) and he's mingling with his crew. Our crew. Their crew. Life's crew.
What matters is he's here. A hovering mama, trying to fly a little further above and away...yet still there hovering....circling just in case.
We'd go over his next appointment scheduled (a biopsy), along with the start of vaccinations. He's now up to 157 lbs.
Hair growing in at a steady straight thick mode. He's surrounded by the best kind of love. Which is a long standing brotherhood of friends.
Traffic moved at the pace of a snail on the way home. I commented to Kris that he and I could walk faster than our car crawled home. When we leave his appointments there's a pep in our step. A feeling of conquer and achievement. I kick fear in the teeth. I wish I could scoop him up like this and walk back singing our little song about the frog and the river when he was a baby. For now we slip back in the normal world we once lived. I will pick up a new week long antibiotics once again today. I will remind my self of God's promise to me. Those beginning days when I didn't even know how to pray. I just prayed. Hard. Navigating my crash course of religion. Begging for MERCY.
I see mercy, every single day.
I wasn't raised to be at the mercy of God's will. I was raised "do good unto others, as you'd expect done to you" aka KARMA.
And yet, I still toss and turn with torment of why something like this would happen to us. To anyone suffering through the trials of cancer. Often times I try to find the good that comes from it. Maybe it's a new found strength we all didn't know we had. Or needed. Or maybe just maybe it's new friendships. Or love. Or maybe it's a relationship with God.
I read a comment my son left on a friends instagram page. Jonathan. He's relapsed. After a transplant. Full match from brother. He's back in City Of Hope.
My son's comment read: Through Faith, EVERYTHING is conquerable.
God is working through me. To him. Through us. For us.
It all just takes time. And sometimes we never really understand why we were handed this task.
I do believe with FAITH, everything is conquerable.
Try to keep your heart beautiful. The rest will fall into place. Fight for your babies.... Forever.
This Mama Lisa
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