You've heard of Murphy's law, right?
If anything can go wrong, it will go wrong.
Well, yesterday we had a pretty busy clinic day scheduled:
spinal tap, breathing treatment, chemotherapy and IVIG transfusion.
Mom and I planned for a long long day at the hospital and you know what?
It followed KATHERINE'S LAW.
If it can go smoothly, it will go smoothly.
Every single thing went on time, as scheduled and with as minimal of unfortunate occurrences as possible.
I'm a really lucky kid.
Is it my exceptionally uplifting demeanor? Perhaps.
You know they say attitude is everything and there's just no keeping me down.
Is it the staff at Children's Hospital of Wisconsin? Are they amazing in every aspect of what they do?
Well, that sure helps! The doctors and nurses that I work with are simply superb. The surgical teams have smiles on their faces all the time and work together so well. It's a really great place to be if you have to be there at all.
Is it all of the prayers and support from family and friends?
That really makes all the difference! We are so blessed to have so much support and encouragement on this journey. We are happy not to have to fight this fight alone. Thank you, thank you!
Here's what we endured. And I say endured because Mom knows this quote and says it reminds her of me and what I've been through this past 531 days.
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
- Corinthians.
1)Spinal tap, which means mom has to take me up to surgery suite and leave me in the hands of an anesthesiologist and surgical team so they can wash my brain and add chemotherapy to my spinal fluid.
2) Breathing treatment, which means I have to get absolutely restrained, arms and legs pinned down while they administer my medication to my face through a face mask. This activity takes three people because there's just no reasoning with me at age 3 that the respiratory therapist is doing anything in my favor. She pushes that face mask flush against my nose and mouth so that I have no choice but to breath in that medicine. I'm really not much of a fan of this whole activity, but I'm told that this procedure is likely protecting my lungs for a month from a certain kind of pneumonia. I'm glad I'm still little and the screaming, thrashing and wailing and ultimate submission lasts only 7 minutes. The longest 7 minutes of the day. But at least I didn't have an allergic reaction, didn't need albuterol and didn't lose my lunch.
3) Chemo administration into my port. Vincristine is a medication that goes directly into my blood stream. My nurse has to put on her blue protective lab coat so that she isn't exposed. It is pretty strong stuff, so strong I only get it once every 3 months. Lucky for me it only causes me some mild constipation. Some kids lose their hair over and over again after each dose. Some kids lose the ability to walk, and their feet "flap" at the ground. I'm praying that doesn't happen to me. I only have two Vincristine treatments left.
4) IVIG transfusion. That's the stuff I've been getting each month that is made of other people's immune fighting cells. It's like taking the fighting cells of 100 people combined. It allows me to use them since my own immune system is too weak to make antibodies to fight off things like colds and viruses and diseases. It's like the benefit of 100 people's vaccinations. My immune system won't be ready for fighting for a long time still. The best option for me is to still stay clear of crowds and away from coughs and germs. So, more home-bound days ahead.
That was our day. Katherine's Law reigned again: if it can go smoothly, it will go smoothly. We had no traffic on the way in, none on the way home. Found a parking spot. Had no waiting at the pharmacy while Mom got me my new meds for this month of treatment. Steroids to follow the next 5 days. We were the first surgical procedure. In and out so easily. The respiratory therapist actually was scheduled to see me at noon, but came in at 11:30, which was great because my Benadryl kicked in right away and I slept like a baby for 3 hours. I drank my milk and ate my bread when I woke up like a champ. The chemo went in with no trouble and my IVIG was an easy transfusion as well. Some kids have allergic reactions, because that cocktail is really a mix of so many people, but I did just fine. I read my books and played with my ipad and Mom spoiled me a bit and got me a Sesame Street puzzle from the Children's Hospital gift shop. She knows how much I love ELMO and his friends.
I'm practicing saying "three!" Since, I'm 3 years old.
My chariot ride out of the surgery recovery room.
My new puzzle. I'm big enough that I can hold both railings. I'm getting bigger every day!
Bread! Bread! Bread! I'm not a big fan of not having any food for breakfast on a surgery day, so I was famished when they finally let me eat! I love bread!
All bundled up and ready to go home. It was a cold day yesterday, but I wore my flannel jammies and tights all day and bundled up for the ride home.
I hope the rest of my days go like this. I hope your days so smoothly too. If they start to go not smoothly or you see a few bumps in the road ahead, that's ok too. They can't all go well. Just enjoy each one. We're lucky to have the days we have. We're even luckier, or should I say blessed, to have the days ahead. Each day is a blessing. Not everyone gets a full life or a happy one. I'm going to just try to enjoy the ride I'm on. Today, I'll likely sleep. I can't believe all the stuff they put into my little body yesterday.
I hope Mom makes me a pizza for lunch!
Have a great day, thanks for your prayers and Happy Valentine's Day.
Love, Katherine
P.S. Mom took me to have a professional photo shoot done. Can you even believe it? Like my life isn't already recorded in microseconds... but boy did we have fun. Anna Urban is the photographer and she did a really great job, if I do say so myself. Check her out if you're in the area. She's amazing.
Here's my Valentine for you.
