Home. Tired. Thankful.

Hard morning. As soon as Dr. Wood came into our room, I looked at him and said, “We HAVE to leave today.” He didn’t put up a fight at all, even though Ronan’s ANC levels are still low. I think he heard about our night and saw the pure look of panic and terror in my eyes. Mimi Kay and Papa came to help me pack up our things. I was a wreck. Something happened with our little roommate…. he was taken into surgery this morning and his mother came back up to the room sobbing and crying. The nurses were crying with her and I thought for sure the boy had died or something. I went over and sat with the mom while rubbing her back to try to get her to calm down. She didn’t speak a lick of English. So I sat and cried with her, not even knowing what had happened to her baby boy. The nurses can’t tell me anything, but I heard them say he was now in the Picu (pediatric intensive care unit). In that moment, it didn’t matter that I did not know this lady at all, that she didn’t speak any english…. I totally felt her pain and sadness. I wish I could have made her feel better. I kept trying to tell her it was going to be o.k. I would have given anything to speak spanish so I could have communicated with her. It upset me to see the nurses so upset too. That’s how I really knew something was wrong. I am going to pray for that little boy and his mother tonight and hope they are all right. How scared she must have felt and alone. She had nobody there with her. I am so lucky to always have my friends and family around me when I need them most, even when I think I can do this on my own… I can’t.

After we left PCH I somehow managed to drive myself to my therapist. I think I slept for about 3 hours last night. First I saw the “good doctor.” The one who can prescribe meds. Yup. I’m there now and I have no shame. I talked with him for about an hour and had a good cry. He is a brilliant man who I feel very comfortable with. After seeing “The good doctor.” My therapist squeezed me in for a visit last minute. I had some time to kill before I had my appointment with her so I called up my BFF Marisa to see if I could come for a very overdue visit. I have not seen her since she had baby Max and it has been killing me! I drove to her house and it felt so nice to be there. I stared at little Max in his bassinet and the tears poured. So many things were going through my mind, but most of all how happy I am for Marisa and her new healthy baby boy. It felt so good to give her a hug and spend time with her and her new baby. He is so tiny and sweet. I sat on her couch and she fed me an apple and I held Max and fed him a bottle. I had some time with Gracie girl too who is Ronan’s age. Oh, how I miss being around them. Gracie is a total mini Marisa and is a riot to be around. It was one of the best afternoon’s I’ve had in a long time.

I then ran to see my therapist. Very much needed. I had a lot to talk about and the banter back and fourth between us is a force to be reckoned with. I can be myself and love the fact that I know she is never judging. Love this women. She is helping me with the little baby steps I need.

This is all I can write tonight. Except to say to please keep our friends’ little boy, Jack, in your thoughts tomorrow. He is getting a bunch of his scans done to determine how much of the cancer is gone in his body. I just know it is going to be ALL of it. I have a really good feeling about it. Love you all. Night.

Thanks DD for this tonight. I love you more than words.

Vega 4 Lyrics to Life Is Beautiful :

Life is beautiful
We live until we die

When you run into my arms,
We steal a perfect moment.
Let the monsters see you smile,
Let them see you smiling.

Do I hold you too tightly?
When will the hurt kick in?

Life is beautiful, but it’s complicated.
We barely make it.
We don’t need to understand,
There are miracles, miracles.

Yeah, life is beautiful.
Our hearts, they beat and break.

When you run away from harm,
Will you run back into my arms,
Like you did when you were young?
Will you come back to me?

I will hold you tightly
When the hurting kicks in.

Life is beautiful, but it’s complicated,
we barely make it.
We don’t need to understand,
There are miracles, miracles.

Stand where you are.
We let all these moments pass us by.

It’s amazing where I’m standing,
There’s a lot that we can give.
This is ours just for the moment,
There’s a lot that we can give.

8 thoughts on “Home. Tired. Thankful.”

  1. It sounds to me as though you did exactly what was best for you, Ronan, Woody, Liam and Quinn. Good for you. AND I’m so glad you are all home again. Prayers for Jack and for Ronan’s roommate.

  2. I am in tears reading the post about that poor mom who had no one with her at the hospital….and with prayers for him and your Ronan i close this response!!!! God bless you guys ad keep you all safe and at peace tonight..Let the angels watch over Ronan and Jack and give them their energy to fight this crap…Let the new day begin with new hopes and recovery! God bless you! take care.

  3. Lord Jesus touch the little children and heal their bodies and bring them through this that they may live out their lives as You Lord have planned for them. Remove their pain and bring joy into their lives. Remove the fear from the parents that go through these terrible tests. Show Your glory Lord, in Jesus name. Bring comfort Lord.

  4. Thinking of you as always and little Jack too. And the little boy who was R’s roommate. Cancer fucking sucks. πŸ™

  5. I saw Woody this morning and he told me about your son. Having just spent a four day stint in PCH with my 5 year old, I immediately starting crying. It is another planet inside the hospital, especially a children’s hospital. It is a place that few parents are familiar with. It then becomes a place you are all too familiar with sleeping there, eating there, making crafts with the others, trying desperately to not FREAK out, get a straight answer from a nurse, doctor, then wondering if they are telling you everything…. good, bad, possible about your child. Your family will be in my continuous prayers.

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