Inconvenienced by Cancer

4/26/2012:  10:20 AM


I am sorry that I haven't updated sooner. My internet has been out for the last several days.
Last week was rough. Despite no real hiccups in his treatment, Davis' behavioral/emotional issues dominated our every day life. I was/am seriously at my breaking point with his mood swings and back talk. I am sure that some of it is normal kid stuff, but Davis was never a child to misbehave in any sort of way (Annakate is a bit of a different story.), so I am adjusting to new circumstances and experiences as a parent.  Kyle believes that since Davis and I have extremely similar personalities and neither of us have any give, the emotions run high. Kyle has done a good job this week of being the communicative liaison, and things have been improving slowly.

Now that treatment has slowed a bit, I can better understand the emotional toll that cancer has taken on Davis. He is starting to feel better, but he is irritable at the inconveniences cancer is causing him. He has taken to wearing his port protector underneath his baseball t-shirt so it isn't as noticeable. You can't even tell he is wearing it really; he looks bulky as though he has been lifting weights. I said to him last night, "Hey, have you been working out?" The problem with the port protector is that he can't run with his arms to his sides. He has to run with his elbows and arms out, which slows him down considerably. I know that he says he doesn't mind boating with us this summer, but I am sure he isn't going to enjoy it as he should. He can't get into the water for risk of a port infection, and he can't be exposed to the sun for long stretches because of the skin sensitivity caused by cancer. These are just a couple of examples from a long list. Bottom line: boy and cancer don't mix. We aren't complaining, truly. I know how blessed we are, and Davis doing all that he is doing is miraculous on many different levels, but I think as a family, knowing how well he is feeling physically, we want cancer behind us.


Speaking of emotional toll . . . Davis, my nephew Shane, and I were eating in Buffalo Wild Wings on Sunday. A boy a little older than Davis was being seated and walked by our table. The boy undoubtedly noticed Davis' hair or lack of and his mask and made a great effort to turn around, stop right in front of Davis, and give the "what's wrong with you, you freak?" look to Davis. He then just turned around and walked away. As he did, Davis looked at the back of his head and said, "What?" and then put his hand in the crook of his elbow on the table and cried. At first, I thought he and Davis knew each other and they were going to talk, but once I realized what was going on, I was stuck in the aftermath. Even though I know that child was completely ignorant and possibly unknowingly rude, I wanted to unload a great deal of hostility on him and his grandmother. As a mom, I wish I could do a better job to shelter my child from the endless stares and whispers. There is so much that cancer has taken from Davis already; I just want to preserve his privacy and pride, and I can't. Anyway, I chose the moral high road and explained to Davis that sadly there are people like that in the world. I told him, "His problems are bigger than yours, and you reap what you sew." Davis soon regained his composure, but that memory has been seared into my mind. I was able to see how fragile Davis' emotions are, and how helpless I am at times. I am not sure if this encounter affected us because we are exhausted and drained from facing and fighting all of the layers of cancer or if it is because we live in a community, we attend a church, and Davis attends a school where he is loved and accepted and not treated differently, because sometimes we forget that he is a child with cancer. Maybe it's both.


Annakate was sick over the weekend. Kyle and I took her to the ER on Saturday evening. Yep, strep throat. Davis went to stay with my in-laws because the ER nurse practitioner recommended 48 hours of distance. Annakate was feeling much better by Monday morning. Kyle watched Annakate on Sunday morning while Davis and I attended church. When we made it home, Annakate had a surprise for me. Two new fish! Yippee! (That is my sarcasm in case you couldn't read it.) You see, this is what happens when daddy and daughter spend sick time together. :) Needless to say, the guppy Lein (pronounced lee - in) (a Japanese guppy, perhaps?) and the algae eater Jolly are nice additions to our family.

Friday night . . . fever

Saturday night . . . ER

Kyle took Davis to church Sunday evening and I stayed home with Annakate. Kyle and Davis went to Wal-Mart. Well, Davis was doing some kind of karate sword-fighting moves on Kyle, Kyle dodged an attack from Davis, Davis ended with his foot in some kind of crate. . . . Alright, Davis injured his ankle. You see, this is what happens when daddy and son spend unsupervised Wal-Mart time together. :) Tuesday, I had to take Davis to get an x-ray to make sure nothing was broken.  Good news! Just a sprain.

Davis and Dr. Leifheit

Things are picking up around here. Annakate keeps busy with soccer and Taekwondo, and Davis had his first baseball game last night. At times, I thought we would never get to this hustle and bustle again, and here we are. It is a welcomed change of pace, but we are still adjusting to it.

Annakate doing what soccer players do . . . running and kicking.

Davis guarding third.

We want to thank the anonymous saint (maybe from the Rantoul area) for the card of encouragement and the gift. The kids were overjoyed, and Kyle and I were equally grateful. The kids had a blast using their sleuthing skills to try to decipher the handwriting on the card and any overlooked clues. No such luck. God bless you!

Thanks to everyone for standing beside us as we continue on this journey. We ask that you pray not only for Davis' health (no relapses, no long term side effects, no secondary cancers, no organ damage) but for his emotional well-being as well. Carrying the stress of cancer as a ten-year-old is not an easy feat, and I sadly fear that cancer will leave scars that we cannot see. We have only been able to do so well for so long because of the prayers, positive thoughts, and encouragement that have been sent our way. The weight of our burden seems far lighter because so many of you have shared in the load.

Please earnestly pray for Davis' friend Cory. He continues to receive treatment and waits for counts to build in the hospital at Children's. He wants nothing more than to be healed and to go home.

We will keep you posted.