Breaking News
I started writing this blog post three weeks ago.
But something happened that shifted the whole framework of the post. And then another. And another. And then three weeks of “things” made the entire meaning of the update irrelevant.
Ain’t that the way life works.
So today I began again as I waited for Violet to return from her bone marrow biopsy.
“My phone went off at 6:00 am this morning, 15 minutes before my alarm. It was Matt, asking if I was awake yet. Silly question, really. That would require getting to sleep in the first place…”
And as I wrote, another thing...
Yesterday Violet had her PET/CT scan as a follow up to her “induction” portion of her treatment. At this point, after five rounds of intensive chemo and tumour resection surgery, Violet has completed the first of three stages of treatment. It’s a massive milestone, and for us, extremely significant as we are now undergoing comprehensive testing to see how much progress we have made.
This morning we had to be at the clinic for 8:00 am for blood tests, flu shots, and anesthesia for yet another procedure. But last night as I was preparing for bed, unusually anxiety-free about the next morning’s event, I mentioned to my mom that my next blog post would be about that – about the implication of feeling so nonchalant about a biopsy in the context of so many other “things”.
What things, exactly? Well, let’s see. In the past month or so we have, collectively, mourned the potential passing of our oldest dog (Max), then our youngest (Ella), while they experienced severe, life-threatening health issues (one with seizures, the other violent gastrointestinal trauma). Then, after seeing them both recover and finding solace in their renewed health, we had to once again face the painful reality of Max’s failing condition, and made the impossible decision to put him down after 15 glorious years of companionship.
In other words, we said official goodbyes to our most beloved pet, and Matt to his best friend.
During this time Violet also went through a vicious cycle of chemo that resulted in sever colitis and a brutal infection that left us isolated in a hospital room for three weeks. When she recovered, we learned that they had decided to go ahead with tumour surgery after initially suggested it was unnecessary. The surgery was scheduled for two weeks before Halloween, the one holiday Violet was hanging a substantial amount of weight on to curb the agony of missing so many “fun things” from her life before cancer. Assuming that we would never make it out in time, we tried to soothe the pain of that reality by carving pumpkins early, decorating the hospital room in Halloween décor, and making sure to bring her costume to the ward so she could, at least, participate in spirit.
And during it all, my ever-determined, scrupulous, enterprising, resolute husband continued to work his gruelling job far away from all of us, doing all of the things that keep the ship afloat and the roof over our…stuff…, all the while wishing desperately to be closer and a more involved, active part of family life (whatever that may look like right now). Not only that, but he continued to juggle the challenges of managing a developing business, trying to keep momentum going that he has been building for years. And from the miniscule understanding I have of what it takes to be a man and a provider in this world at the best of times, I suspect he suffered more in silence than I will ever be able to comprehend.
These are a mere handful of “things” going on in the drama of our lives as of late, and amid these shifting tides, I tried several times to sit down and consolidate my thoughts in writing.
But maybe there’s a reason I never did finalize anything on paper. Maybe the reason I never did get an update out to everyone during this chaotic month is because the breaking news was the real story – the update that was meant to be shared.
Today, while waiting for Violet to return to the room, our oncology dream team showed up to chat with me. We have an official meeting scheduled for Monday to go over the tests and scans, and to discuss next steps. But they couldn’t wait. Not after seeing the PET results. And they brought our Social Worker along with them.
As they settled in, I let the energy they brought with them sink into my skin. My pulse quickened. I knew what was coming.
“Get your camera out,” our Nurse Clinician said as our Oncologist pulled up the images on the screen. Before and after shots. The results we have been waiting for.
And there it was right in front of me. Violet’s body – on one side, riddled with black cancerous cells. On the other, her frame filled with organs and skeleton and clear-looking tissue. A beautiful bill of health, in all the ways that currently matter.
By no means an end-of-the-line shot, mind you. We still have biopsy results, and there is still a significant road to cover in treatment, including the most intensive chemo rounds of all in upcoming months. But what those scans showed, and validated, was that Violet is winning. We are moving forward. The treatments are working. We have so much behind us already.
In the glow of this unimaginably positive news, I am filled with so much love and gratitude. There are multiple pin-point thoughts welling up about each and every kindness offered over the past few months – from dollars donated to Violet for everything from ice cream to chemo drugs, to cards and curriculum sent to support us on our ongoing journey. From friends offering to check in on our home, mow our lawn, return our library books, to picking up our mail and paying our rent. Violet’s teachers and classmates and Girl Guide leaders have taken the time to make sure she knows she’s not forgotten. I have had people from every stage of my life reach out to offer words of love and kindness that have moved me to tears over and over again. I’ve had old boyfriends extend unexplainable gestures of generosity, and friends from countries across the entire globe that have ensured that we know we aren’t alone.
We have the most incredible health care team a child could ask for, including psychological and emotional support above and beyond the world-class medical treatment and facilities. We have been graced with the ability to all be together due to the Ronald McDonald House, and have been able to make an “adventure” out of this strange and surreal situation.
I have family that have sacrificed so much to make this all work, and not out of obligation or guilt. They are driven merely by love – by that innate momentum we all have toward caring and support and tenderness.
There are a million emotions – a million ways to look at this, and a million moments in every day to choose an “angle”. And I continue to vacillate between them all. I have hours of anger that run hot and wild, and others of terror that boil up from deep in my bones. I have days where I want to run as fast as I can away from this and never stop, and some where I am so sad I can barely get out of bed (or off the couch if I’m being more precise). But my set point – my default perspective is thankfulness. I feel like I am living in this place of grace that I could never understand before, where the veil is lifted and the truth of everything is everywhere.
Today we received spectacular news. And today I celebrate. But I don’t celebrate because we are free and clear, or because we have gotten through the worst of it. Because neither of those things are true. I celebrate because good news clears the air enough to take in a deep breath, regain my footing, and look around at things. It validates optimism. It reminds me that good news is always on its way, even if challenges are, too. There’s always an end to each tunnel, even if another tunnel awaits somewhere. We are always going somewhere. It’s nice to remember it’s always, eventually, somewhere good.
Mostly, this good news is about how absolutely inspired I am by my daughter’s resiliency. There are no words to express the wisdom she has given me and continues to teach me each day. She is an absolute warrior. And she reminds me that we all have that in us, too, when we need it.
News that revitalizes the soul - now that’s the kind that should drive ratings.