From Another Perspective: A terrible day

 (For this blog post I wanted to challenge myself by writing from another persons perspective and tell the story of when my family found out my sister was diagnosed with cancer. This is not a typical blog post I would do but I thought it to be an interesting challenge and since this turn of events all occurred down the road from Loyola I wanted to find a way to finally sit down and recall what happened. This is form my moms perspective) 

 Thursday May 13, 2010 

I worked late today. Steve picked the kids up from school. This morning I put stew in the crockpot for dinner. Tess was so fidgety at dinner tonight and excused herself early to work on an art project in her room. Aidan helped Steve and I clean the kitchen up after dinner and disappeared into his room for the rest of the evening. Steve took Cara up for a bath after dinner and called me up to look at a nasty bruise on Cara’s leg. We asked her about the bruise and she told us a dog she had played with at one of Aidan’s soccer games had stepped on her leg. I made a doctors appointment for the next morning to look at the bruise. After her checkup, Dr. Lake told us if the bruise seemed worse or as if  there was no change to come back in a week or so. Anyways, lights out, today was tiring. 

Sunday/Monday May 16-17, 2010 

Yesterday was Sunday, The 16th Steve and the girls met Aidan and I at his soccer game. Cara was having trouble getting out of the car and walking to the stands. Tessa cheered on the sidelines when Aidan dribbled the ball up the field. We got home ordered pizza and ate in front of the television. Today, the 17th, was a Monday to say the least. A full packed day of ongoing work, preparing for my court hearing with one of the Hospitals I represent. I got home at around 8 with the house crazed, as Steve attempted to get Tessa ready for bed. Rushing, I threw my briefcase on the ground and walked Cara to the stairs, where I repeatedly heard my baby tell me she couldn't walk up the stairs. I looked at Cara and it was in that moment that I knew she really could not make it up those stairs. Steve carried her up the stairs and got her ready for a bath and noticed red spots all over her chest. I knew something was wrong so I scheduled an appointment at the doctors for the next day. 

Tuesday May 18, 2010 

 I dropped Aidan and Tess at school around 7:30 and made my way to the courthouse for my hearing at 9:30. Steve took Cara to her appointment at 10:00, where he was told by the doctor that he would like to do a blood test, along with further testing. He scheduled a Hematology appointment at Sinai Hospital. Dr. Lake, my childrens pediatrician, had given Steve his cell number as he knew I would like to talk to him. Steve called me at around 11:00 telling me that the doctor had told him Cara’s platelets were rather low and that the doctors office made Cara an appointment at the Hemotologists office for 1:00. So Steve forwarded me Dr. Lake’s phone number and I called him; not urgently, but directly, prior to Steve and I’s phone call. 

“Alan Lake”, he said professionally.

 “You think it’s leukemia.” I replied, with urgency, but with a little hesitation in my voice. 

“I do”. He said, in a tone where I could imagine his facial expression being so devastated by the news, but comforting with simplicity. 

I called Steve back. 

“Did you talk to Lake?” He stated, so clueless to what the doctor thought Cara was sick with. 

Yes, I'm meeting you at the hospital. I spoke with scarcity in my voice. 

“Oh? Aren’t you at court?” He said so confused. 

See you at 1:00. 

I met them both in the parking lot and we walked into the hospital. Steve was basically carrying Cara in; I can't imagine the pain she was in. We sat in the waiting room for what felt like hours, while the voices inside my head pounded at whether or not I should tell Steve what they think Cara might have. I finally pushed myself to tell him that they thought Cara had Leukemia. His face went blank. The doctor called us back and put us in a hospital room. With the consequence of tears, anger, and my new nickname “meanie mommy”,  a nurse took two finger sticks of Cara’s blood. Post blood drawn, a doctor entered our waiting room by the name of Dr. Unguru. Without hesitation, he told us,   “The blood test showed low platelets, she has leukemia.” I asked him if it was confirmed. He followed with, “We would like to take a bone marrow test to fully confirm, but she has leukemia.” Steve exited the hospital room while the doctors took her bone marrow test, and proceeded out of the room. I sat there holding my baby in my arms, attempting to hold back every single tear that managed to squeeze out and stream slowly down my face. I don’t know if it was because the closeness of our house to the hospital, or the pureness of the doctor's hearts, because they let me take my baby home that night. I guess they thought the odds of her surviving her first dose of chemo was low, and they made an exception to let my family be able to have one more night together. 

Prior to our arrival at the hospital, I called my sister and brother-in-law and told them where I was headed and if they could take Aidan and Tess out of school. We arrived home from the hospital, greeted by Aidan who was angerly waiting for some explanation, he knew something was wrong and bombarded me with questions. “is she sick”. “what's wrong”. “what happened”. While Steve was still getting Cara out of the car and Tess was sitting impatiently on the couch. I took Aidan into the living room and told him Cara had acute lymphoblastic leukemia. His voice lowered “But mom, that’s cancer”. As I write this, I’m sitting in the corner of my couch with my family sitting within inches from me. We’ve sat here as a family for 8 hours, trying to avoid the thought that this may never happen again. 

Friday May 21, 2010 

Today Cara underwent surgery, where they implanted a port through an incision on her chest near her right shoulder. They proceeded, and gave her the first doses of chemo through her port, orally, and through her spine. Steve, the doctors, and I  had made the decision to put her in stage 3 clinical trial, for the chemo she’s undergoing is time consuming and will take around 3 years. Aidan is handling the news well, and is on the search to spread awareness for her sister's sickness by finding bracelets for her type of Leukemia. Tess is making stuff all around the house and collecting things Cara might enjoy to have in the hospital. So far, family and friends have been incredibly supportive and the family is somehow finding positivity in a hard time. Cara’s inhaling cheetos by the hundreds while watching high school musical on loop, and taking her treatment like a champ. So that’s all for now journal, and maybe I’ll have some more time to write as my future awaits of many nights, sleeping next to my baby in a hospital room. 

( I pieced this post together using my moms journal pages, as well as talking to her about the events as I was 7 at the time and my sister and I are twins)