Ronan was really restless most of the night. Lots of tossing and turning and seemed to be in a little more pain. They have taken him off of morphine because he is allergic to it. Having a hard time keeping him comfortable and quiet. I dozed off at one point and woke up to him sitting up and he had unwrapped his entire head. He had taken off the all of the bandaids and even the tight netting. He is wanting to feel his swollen eye and head and asking what happened. I’m doing my best to explain things to him and trying to tell him that he has to listen to me and not fight me on everything. Such a stubborn little guy. I have no idea where he gets that from;)
He drank a little sprite, ate some goldfish and wants to do everything by himself. Whenever I try to help him he says, “Stop, mom! I’ll do it!” He is sounding more like a 16 year old, not a 3 year old. We don’t have any tests scheduled today. We may be moved out of the PICU and up to floor number 2. Hoping he’ll rest well today and settle down a bit. He needs to heal as much as possible before we start the chemotherapy.
Nights are the worst. It is during this time that my fighting mind, body, and soul want to shut down. Reality sets in, and everything slowly starts to seep in. While in the presence of Ronan, I always keep the positive vibes and thoughts going. It is sitting alone in a cafeteria, while trying to muster up some sort of an appetite that the evilness of this situation steps in and wants to take over. I am strong and push these thoughts out of my head. I have no choice. To be any other way would not be fair to Ronan. He needs me to fight 24/7 for him. And I do, even in my sleep. I will fight for my beautiful “Brad Pitt baby,” until we beat the shit out of cancer.
I thought about keeping this blog all business with only my positive, upbeat attitude. But I can’t do that. The darkside of what I am feeling and going through is real and painful. I need to be vocal about this and I need an outlet. This is me, this is real, there is no sugar-coating anything. I am going to scream, cry, cuss, and yell. This is my reality, this is my hell.
Two weeks ago, we were still in Washington state enjoying our time with my family and friends. Ronan resembled nothing short of his loving, active, happy, playful self. As I was taking the boys’ Christmas card picture, I noticed Ronan’s left eye looked a little off. It was so minor that no-one else except my neurotic picture taking eye would have noticed. The days went by, and nothing changed. His behavior, activity levels, appetite, etc. remained unchanged. Still happy Ronan.
About a week ago, right after we got home, Woody noticed. We thought perhaps some dust, a leaf, bug bite, infection . . . could have been the culprit? Here is how the rest of our week unraveled:
Monday (8/9) Saw Dr. Campbell (Pediatrician) – she was not concerned and thought it was a chalazion; got referred to a Pediatric Ophthalmologist.
Tuesday (8/10) Saw Pediatric Ophthalmologist – walked out due to MOTHER’S INTUITION (horrible experience).
Wednesday (8/11- early afternoon) Saw Pediatric Ophthalmologist #2, Dr. Brendan Cassidy. Mother’s intuition was positive with him and his team. Sent us to Phoenix Children’s Hospital immediately for an MRI.
and so our journey begins . . …
Ronan has been diagnosed with Stage 4 Neuroblastoma, a rare, but most common, childhood cancer. Findings from an MRI and CT scan show two masses. One in his abdomen (adrenal gland) which is the primary source, the other on his left orbital bone (causing his eye to push forward). Neuroblastoma is very treatable and even curable. We have our plan in place, and the Thompson Family Combat Boots are on!
We are so blessed to be surrounded by the most amazing family and friends on this planet. We know that Ronan is a fighter and the strongest little boy out there, and we know we are going to beat this. Please continue to pray and keep our family in your thoughts at this time.