Smiles

When Brooke was given her pink princess jeep, I remarked:

''Ohmigawd, look Brooke! Great. Now, Avie's gonna want cancer, too.''

One of my friends thought this was pretty funny--and I meant it to be--but I think he was a little startled by the joke and wasn't certain if he should laugh.

Most people either look shocked or at a loss for words when I joke about Brooke's cancer. They wonder how I can still maintain a sense of humor amidst all of the recent drama.

These two beauties are my main reasons for smiling through what can sometimes be stormy weather.


Either I can play the cards dealt me, laugh a little bit about the situation and hope for the best or I can let the disease drag me down--and the girls with me. Like them, I choose to smile.

You girls are so young and yet so wise. Thank you for teaching me about what is important in life. Love you.

July math

Picnic table + green grass + flip flops = summer.

Another one bites the dust

Chemo #4 (aka The Big One) has been completed and my kid continues to amaze me. She was in great spirits yesterday both before and after the chemo injection. (Even asked that we stop at ''Donald's'' for a ''hangaburger'' on our way home.) And today, she is her usual happy go-lucky self. She slept well and has had her usual appetite. No complaints about a tummyache, just a steadfast refusal to take the ''yucky'' anti-nausea medicine. (I eventually convinced her.) So far, so good. And, we are one step closer to Week 6.

Our nurse seemed pleased that B's counts were so high yesterday, but warned us that if there was a week to feel miserable, this would be it. Besides nausea, we might also see some serious hair loss this week.

Are we sure that she has cancer? Are we sure the nurses aren't just giving her sugar water? She never seems to react adversely to anything. It's almost a little unsettling that she is doing so brillantly. By no means do we want to see our child sick, but it does make us wonder if she's immune to the chemo!

Punky monkey

Decided a fresh new haircut was in order, so we headed to the Melonheads children's salon yesterday afternoon. B picked out some new hair clips and we set to work.

How daya like the new do?

To jazz it up a little, we decided to add some punky purple colour and glam glitter to B's locks. Can't really tell in this photo, but it is quite wild and punky.

And, we discovered that it is surprisingly difficult to find kid-friendly hair colour and glitter at the mall. (Finally found some on clearance at San Diego. We'll have to stock up on the junk when the stores are brimming with the stuff at Halloween!)

Anyways, I find she looks so much more grown-up now. Can't believe that just a few short months ago, B was still a baby. Now, a little girl....

And here is Avie-cakes, after a fun morning at the marina park. Lots of fresh air, sunshine and digging in the sand makes for very tired children.

B let Avie hold Baby Bunny for a little snooze while we ate our picnic lunch with B's old daycare group.

Another good day. Love you both to smithreens, girls.

Three chemos in

Three treatments in and B is doing great. Her blood counts are high (higher even than the average chemo-free kid) and her energy level is top notch. Another treatment down and still no puke, no lethargy, no complaining. The kid amazes me.

The whole process has been rather anti-climactic. We were shocked by the cancer discovery and overwhelmed by the immediate surgery, but now we have to....hurry up and wait until she is ill. I'm kinda having a hard time wrapping my head around it, and clearly so is B.

''Why am I getting medication, Mommy? I don't hurt and I'm not sick anymore.''

I try to explain that there is something in her belly that could make her sick and she needs to take the medication to keep her healthy. She takes it easily enough--because she likes the taste--but I am left wondering how long this compliance of hers will last.

In other news, the next treatment (a combination of vincristine and doxurubicin (sp?)) will be the big one, so the nurses expect that she will start to feel the effects of the chemo at Week 4. One nurse said that if we had any specific plans for this summer, this weekend is the weekend to get 'em done. I'm wondering how to spend the time. Zoo? Camping? Theme park?

Another nurse also suggested cutting B's hair short prior to the next dose because she may start losing it in large chunks afterwards, which might be unsettling for us to witness. I'll say. Nothing says 'sick child' like a bald one. I think this whole thing will become all the more real to me when--and if--she loses her hair.

Last night, we also met with our Interlink nurse. She is our connection to all programs within the cancer community. Who knew there were so many?

The services offered by various organizations, including Candlelighters, the Canadian Cancer Society, Make-a-Wish Foundation and the Pediatric Oncology Group of Ontario (POGO), run the gambit of offering support groups for parents, patients and siblings to financial assistance (for food allowances, babysitting expenses, parking, travel costs) to residential summertime camps (for the whole family, not just the cancer patient). Truly wonderful programs, several of which we will no doubt take advantage. After all, it seems that once you're a cancer patient, you're always a cancer patient (or at the very least, a member of the cancer community!).....

Had to put a pause on the post there for a second. Expecting my mother and grandmother to visit and thought they were already at the door, but opened it to two nice, old Jehovah witnesses instead. They seem surprised that I answered, stating that so many people were out ''shopping or working.'' More likely, my neighbours peeped outside the window and when they saw the ladies, bibles in hand, climbing out of their station wagon, wisely decided to hide from view.

Anyways, I hate to be rude, so I pleasantly explained to them that yes, I believe in God, and no, I did not know him on a first-name basis as we had never had the good fortune to meet in person, and finally that I was quite happy as a lapsed Catholic. Sadly, that did not sway them from giving me their booklets. Their literature was wasted on me and has ended up in the recycling bin. So be it. Amen.

So, now with my first conversion of the day averted, I'll start the grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. Thanks for tuning in, everyone.

A blissfully bland morning

Sometimes, on days like today, I can almost forget that we are a family dealing with cancer. Everything about today has been ordinary: cartoons during a Froot Loop and Cheerios combo breakfast, a dance-off between B and myself with Avie judging our skill and finesse (I lost, not surprisingly), painting Princess pictures on my bedroom floor (every princess with the exception of my Ariel is purple), B's deft avoidance of her lunch by insisting that we eat alfresco and then dashing into the sandbox when my back was turned. Everything was exactly the same as it was before the diagnosis. The smiles, the laughs, the sunshine on the back deck.

Then, a call from the Interlink nurse from CHEO (nothing to worry about, everyone! Just an appointment rescheduling) and I am reminded of the illness. Oh yeah...cancer, right--I almost forgot.

It's easy to forget that she is unwell when there are no more symptoms present. It's easy to forget when the surgery scars are healing so well. It's easy to forget when B has sailed through two chemo treatments so smoothly and with, thank God, no complications so far. I know it will not always be like this, that she won't always seem so healthy, so happy, so perfect--but I can't help hoping that the worst is already behind us and that the simplicity of this blissfully bland morning remains.

Either way, I know in my heart of hearts that we will beat this thing. Some days, I must remind myself to draw strength from my daughter's overflowing good spirits--she has more than enough to spare--and when I do, I know that she will overcome cancer. That she will walk in the Survivor's Circle at the Relay for Life next summer. That she will wear her decades-old scars, her badges of honour, with pride. That she will one day show her grandchildren her courage beads and tell them her story. Until then, all I can promise her is more smiles, more laughs and more sunshine on the back deck this summer--and every summer thereafter.