Damn You, Cancer!
This past Wednesday, I decided that the best way to spend my day was to use some more of my vacation time to go and be with Lacey and Spencer as they went for Spencer's blood tests and doctor visits. I didn't want her to be alone after the way things seemed to be going. (i.e. Bad numbers going up and good numbers going down and an official leukemia diagnosis getting closer and closer.)
Turned out, I was glad I went. Not because Spencer puked on me and made my hand smell like a rotten hot sweet potato for a while. But because at the end, as the doctors were wrapping it up, I pushed Lacey to ask the questions she had been wanting to ask about how the chemo treatments would go if/when they decided that was the way to go. She had told me she had what she deemed "stupid" questions about things like jammies and time frames and all of that. Well, I knew from my own experience that NO questions you might have are stupid and that the more you know, the easier things can be. So she got a poke in the ribs from me and blurted out her questions.
And it turned out the answers were GOOD. (Relatively speaking, obviously.) She knew the chemo he'd be getting would be inpatient, but "in" was the extent of what she really knew. They explained that each course of chemo would be a 3-4 day stay in the hospital and then they would get to go HOME for the rest of the month. Just knowing that she would not be moving into UH for weeks/months straight took a pretty big weight out of the pit of Lacey's stomach. My job was done for the day!!
Thursday was Lacey's birthday, so we went out for a wee celebration. I'm glad it was on the tails of good news that we got to toast her 34 years.
Especially because the next day, the official decision came down from Spencer's panel of doctors. Chemo it is. Next week he goes for a echo, a possible transfusion, and surgery for a central line. The following week: chemotherapy. When I got the text last night, my heart broke. It doesn't matter how much you prepare. You can never be truly "ready" to hear that this little goof that you've fallen so in love with has to go through the crud that is chemo.
I know everyone who loves Spencer is devastated. And I feel like I have a particularly strange connection with him. He showed up while I was at my sickest, prior to my own diagnosis. I loved him right away - I was there when he was born. I visited in the hospital during the WEEKS they were there. And then I got my diagnosis. And I beat my cancer. And it left me unable to have children of my own. And I would be remiss if I didn't admit that I kind of believe that Spencer showed up in MY life to give me a place to direct all of the love I will never be able to give a child of my own. I don't talk much about how sad that sometimes makes me because overall, I am aware that children, even if they were physically possible for me are in no way a financial possibility for me. I could never, at this point in my life, give a child of my own everything it would need and everything I would want it to have - and I am too realistic to let that thought go and get too sad and romantic about the idea for too long... But I do think that on some odd level this plays into my attachment to Spencer. Or maybe it's just that he's so ridiculously cute and sweet and lovable.
Anyhow... I am starting up a Cafe Press shop. I'm still adding designs, so don't go too crazy yet (unless you want to). All the proceeds are going to Team Spencer. For medical bills. For new jammies. For college. Whatever Lacey and Todd decide.
Turned out, I was glad I went. Not because Spencer puked on me and made my hand smell like a rotten hot sweet potato for a while. But because at the end, as the doctors were wrapping it up, I pushed Lacey to ask the questions she had been wanting to ask about how the chemo treatments would go if/when they decided that was the way to go. She had told me she had what she deemed "stupid" questions about things like jammies and time frames and all of that. Well, I knew from my own experience that NO questions you might have are stupid and that the more you know, the easier things can be. So she got a poke in the ribs from me and blurted out her questions.
And it turned out the answers were GOOD. (Relatively speaking, obviously.) She knew the chemo he'd be getting would be inpatient, but "in" was the extent of what she really knew. They explained that each course of chemo would be a 3-4 day stay in the hospital and then they would get to go HOME for the rest of the month. Just knowing that she would not be moving into UH for weeks/months straight took a pretty big weight out of the pit of Lacey's stomach. My job was done for the day!!
Thursday was Lacey's birthday, so we went out for a wee celebration. I'm glad it was on the tails of good news that we got to toast her 34 years.
Especially because the next day, the official decision came down from Spencer's panel of doctors. Chemo it is. Next week he goes for a echo, a possible transfusion, and surgery for a central line. The following week: chemotherapy. When I got the text last night, my heart broke. It doesn't matter how much you prepare. You can never be truly "ready" to hear that this little goof that you've fallen so in love with has to go through the crud that is chemo.
I know everyone who loves Spencer is devastated. And I feel like I have a particularly strange connection with him. He showed up while I was at my sickest, prior to my own diagnosis. I loved him right away - I was there when he was born. I visited in the hospital during the WEEKS they were there. And then I got my diagnosis. And I beat my cancer. And it left me unable to have children of my own. And I would be remiss if I didn't admit that I kind of believe that Spencer showed up in MY life to give me a place to direct all of the love I will never be able to give a child of my own. I don't talk much about how sad that sometimes makes me because overall, I am aware that children, even if they were physically possible for me are in no way a financial possibility for me. I could never, at this point in my life, give a child of my own everything it would need and everything I would want it to have - and I am too realistic to let that thought go and get too sad and romantic about the idea for too long... But I do think that on some odd level this plays into my attachment to Spencer. Or maybe it's just that he's so ridiculously cute and sweet and lovable.
Anyhow... I am starting up a Cafe Press shop. I'm still adding designs, so don't go too crazy yet (unless you want to). All the proceeds are going to Team Spencer. For medical bills. For new jammies. For college. Whatever Lacey and Todd decide.
Please keep them in your thoughts, your prayers. Send love. PMA. Good juju. And see it all over in your mind, a little boy with no more cancer. A little boy cured. Because he will be cured. Love is the best medicine. Chemo's a close second.
Love you Spencer and Lacey and Todd and all of Team Spencer,
Xxo, Phoebe
Comments