Have you ever had it where things are going so well that it feels like you are floating, only to be brought back to earth with a punch to the gut… or a little lower? That was me yesterday. Before I explain what happened yesterday, let me share a random flashback from about six weeks ago. I should tell you that I’m not a “superstitious” guy or a “karma” guy, but more of a “God’s got a plan” guy and I don’t necessarily need to understand the plan or agree with the plan (yo God, in case your wondering…I’m not really digging this one), but I know he loves even this numskull and I just need to trust Him. I’m not trying to get all Ned Flanders on you, I’m just mentioning that because of some irony that is keeping me up at 3:30 in the morning (well that, and pondering why they haven’t created infomercials for the Wonderbro yet?).
About six weeks ago, I went for a run with a really wise buddy of mine. I’m like 99.9% of guys where the deepest I get with other men is, “How are you? Oh, good. Umm..sooo… did you see game last night?” but not with this guy. We always tend to have these deep, down in the soul kind of talks. We hadn’t seen each other in a few months and he asked how things were going. I replied by telling him that things were going so well, it was a little scary. My wife had just been promoted at work and things were great with us, my 12 year old just got a very encouraging call back that we were all very excited about, and I had my own zany excitement going on. I remember saying, “It has me a little nervous thinking, ‘Okay God, what exactly are you setting me up for here? Things are going TOO good!” Now, a month and a half later, I’m sorry that I ever asked.
Anyway, back to yesterday. I was at work and of course, my mind wandered to Delaney, so I shot my wife a text inquiring how she was doing. The text back was “Delaney is doing well. We walked to school. :)”. I had to re-read it a few times to make sure it didn’t say, “Your a fool” or “kids in the pool” but sure enough, I read it right the first time. I was THRILLED!!! We live about 1/2 mile from Delaney’s school and yesterday was one of those beautiful Colorado days where you just want to get outside and enjoy it, so my wife and Delaney got out for a walk. They didn’t start out with the intent of going all the way to the school, but Delaney was feeling well and wanted to keep walking, so the next thing they knew, they were all the way to the school.
It was too much, and I was too excited, for getting all the details via text so I had to call my wife as soon as I left work. It was by far the most excited I had been since the stupid cancer diagnosis. It turned out that not only did she walk all the way to school, her classmates were playing on the playground so Delaney got to see all of her friends and her teacher. Delaney sat down on a bench and the kids stayed behind a line a little ways off because as Delaney explained, “I’m still fragile.” She also got to see the new fish that the class got and all the very loving front office staff that has been so concerned about her. I was so darn excited for her while just hearing all of this, that I could barely contain myself!
Then, only about a minute later, the conversation turned to the topic of today’s treatment. I knew she had her “Friday chemo” but I was picturing the “quick, we’ll just inject this little liquid in her port” kind. Somehow, in all the medical jargon and with so much going on, I missed the fact that they were going to need to put her under again today so they could inject more chemo in her spine and THEN they were also going to put more in her port to get it in her blood as well. All of this will take place only after they draw more blood and after we try to keep our ravenous little werewolf from eating all morning, which is going to make her very upset. Needless to say, I wasn’t floating anymore.
I’m not sure why it hit me so hard. She had the whole spinal thing done just last week, and she did fine. They had taken plenty of blood and she has always done fine with that. They already tried out her little Ironman port, and it didn’t phase our little fighter one bit. Maybe it was just the timing of this realization coming right after I was just elated about the day she was having, but I could barely even speak after all this hit me.
We’re barely a week into an almost three year ordeal, so I’ve got to man up quickly. I figured that there was no better time to go check out the local doctor’s office. Now would be a great time for an apology and to point out I was only kidding about the whole “Ben Stein in a Goofy tie” comment (my next funny joke will be my first funny joke). He actually seemed very caring yesterday and his staff was great. I hit the odometer on my way home and it clocked out at just about five miles, which is nice. However, I could care less about making this more convenient on us, we just want whatever is best for our daughter. Here is the part I wish I knew: we are blessed with the ability to choose between two top doctors who have a very different approach to today’s procedure (the docs at Children’s put her under for today’s treatment, whereas this doctor just keeps her conscious but not feeling anything), which one is better for Delaney?
That’s a rhetorical question by the way. Unless you are an expert in leukemia and much smarter than these two doctors who are both at the top of their field, you don’t need to let me know which one of the two is better in your opinion. I’ve had a lot of very well meaning people share their research and opinions with me already, but I think I’m good on that (at least for now, anyways). It’s not that I am ungrateful (because I can’t even put into words how appreciative we are of all the love and support we have received), it’s just that I am reading what the doctors and nurses have been giving us and believing what they have told us is about a 95% success rate. I don’t need to hear that you read it is actually ______ (fill in the blank with whatever lower number you heard) or that if she could just learn to stand on her head while burping the ABC’s in Espanol, she’ll be cured no problemo. PLEASE do NOT take this last part the wrong way. We are very grateful that you would care enough to research this and probably will want to know all of the latest things you have discovered, but just not right now. Right now we are still in a little bit of shock, sad for our daughter, in a little bit of information overload, and apparently I need to go buy a cup so I’ll be prepared for the next sucker punch that comes my way.