Normalcy

More than anything, I wish I could rewind life, turn back time to last week, when our little world was normal and ordinary and bordering on simple. Normalcy, however, has gone out the window and I wonder if it will ever come back. Basically, we went into CHEO yesterday to run some tests on B's suspected urinary tract infection and instead came out today with a diagnosis for a cancerous tumour on her kidney.

Were you SHOCKED by what you just read? Did the mention of the BIG C make you freak out just as much as we are currently FREAKING out? Did it STOP you in your tracks, fill you with DREAD and leave you feeling like you have NO IDEA where to go from here? Well, that's where we are right now. We are devastated. We are awash with overwhelming emotions and unanswered questions. Tonight our lives were changed forever. We heard the news that no parent wishes to EVER hear about their child.

I just got home from a long--and unexpected--day at the hospital, leaving behind two of the three people in the world who mean the most to me. My husband (who experienced cancer as the son of a survivor and now experiences it again as the father of a patient) and my sweet, innocent little girl (who hasn't the foggiest idea about any of this. She thinks she is having a nice sleepover with Daddy at the hospital. She isn't even in pain, so is a little unclear as to why she is there), who is utterly undeserving of this shitty news.

I am heartbroken. I just endured the longest and most lonely car ride ever. Do you believe in pathetic fallacy? I do, now. The world wept right along with me as I drove home; Avie cooing quietly in the backseat, completely oblivious to the tears coursing down my face.

The medical story is a long one, but the short of it is this--Brooke looks to have a sizable mass on her right kidney. The doctors suspect it is a Wilm's tumour (?), which is apparently quite operable and has a very good prognosis of being cured with surgical removal and/or chemo. We meet with the encologists in the morning to discuss when the surgery is slated to take place and what the treatments will likely entail. We pray for the best. We could use your prayers, too. Thank you in advance.

The upside? Other than the blood in the urine (which is why a bladder or urinary tract infection was suspected), Brooke has no other symptoms. Her bloodwork has come back negative for whatever it is they test for in bloodwork, so she seems fine on that account. She has no abdominal pain, no fever, no vomiting, nothing else. Perhaps we have caught it in time? She's bouncing on hospital beds, giggling about party hats (it's her twin cousins' 4th birthday today--Happy Day Gracie and Dilly Dog!) and playdoh. Frankly, this toddler normalcy is what makes this whole ordeal all the more scary and surreal.

My kid looks healthy. She acts healthy. But she is not healthy. And, it is a good thing we went with our gut and brought her to CHEO yesterday afternoon, rather than wait for her scheduled ultrasound in September. They took our complaints seriously and more tests were run. Luckily, we had an ultrasound scheduled within 12 hours, but it's really never a good sign when things move that quickly.

Now, I just wish for last week, when my greatest worry was what to make for supper.

I wish for last week when the most exciting thing I had to post about was our first crop of strawberries.

I wish for last week, when I was busy planning the family bbq we were going to have this Saturday, in honour of the twin's birthday, our wedding anniversary and Father's Day.

Most of all, I desperately wish that it was yesterday and Brooke was asleep in her bed, just 15 feet away from me.

P.S.: July 17--Some of you may be wondering why we chose to relay this news in a blog post. Hubby and I agreed that making the announcement via blog was one way of avoiding having to repeat the story to everyone individually. As you can imagine, the telling of it has already become quite tiresome. So, I apologize for the rather blunt way of sharing our announcement, but there you go.

As for the latest news: A CT scan is scheduled to take place tomorrow morning, after which much should be revealed. We should know soon what kind of tumour we are facing, but it looks like surgery will be taking place early next week. As for Brooke, she is her usual happy-go-lucky self, charming both CHEO staff and other patients alike with her adorable antics.

Thank you again for your thoughts, everyone.