Brooklyn and I went up to Mac for her three month check up, sprinkle donut in hand, singing loudly to the 90s mix on the radio.
We arrived on time, and B was happy to be there.
She ran to the far right desk in the entrance of the 3F clinic, proud to know her way around.
She grabbed her paperwork, and in we went.
The 3F clinic was quiet. We may have been the first family to arrive.
She was happy to play toys and wait for the doctor until we found out she required a finger poke, as oncology teams call it, down in the lab.
We hadn't been there before.
A finger poke was new.
She was used to IV lines and major blood draws.
Because of this, she immediately shut down the moment I told her we needed to take a walk.
The child life specialist and I bribed her with ipad time and treasure chest rewards.
She was leery, but she went.
Upon entering the lab, her switch flipped.
Happy, agreeable Brooklyn was gone.
Angry, anxious Brooklyn had taken over.
The nurse, child life and I couldn't convince B to walk into the finger poke room.
She literally dug in her heels, crossed her arms over her chest and started shouting NO WAY.
My heart sank.
My body started to shake.
Tears formed in my eyes.
A beautiful, teenaged cancer kicker (who was waiting for her own finger poke) noticed.
With her thin frame, cute hat and positive smile, she came over to Brooklyn.
She was in for her second finger poke of the week, she said.
Do you want to come and see how we do it, she said.
It's really ok, she said.
You even get to pick the bandaid, she said.
Brooklyn's shoulders dropped a little.
Leery once again, she held my arm tightly and entered the finger poke room.
This gorgeous cancer kicker, with her wide smile, talked Brooklyn through the process. Why they warm her finger, how quick the poke was, how she looks for a cool bandaid while the nurse works in order to stay distracted.
B watched.
B listened.
In the end, it didn't matter. Brooklyn has post-traumatic stress associated with needles and her fight or flight instinct did kick in. She completely lost herself, kicking and screaming and hitting and crying so hard she was sweating.
It was overwhelmingly sad.
My heart broke into a million more pieces.
My heart broke into a million more pieces.
Cancer fucking sucks.
But, this girl, this teenager who's fighting cancer the way a boxer would his opponent, she reminded me of something.
Even when our bodies feel weak.
Even when our spirit is on empty.
Even when every single OUNCE of our mind tells us life isn't fair.
We have to fight back.
We have to stay focused.
We have to lead with love.
This girl, she led with instant and genuine love for my Warrior Princess, and for that I am so grateful.
This morning was a tough one.
I will take some time to cry.
Grieve.
Hurt.
And then I will pick myself back up and love, the way this beautiful girl demonstrated today.
I hope you'll do the same <3
#TeamBrookie #WarriorPrincess
What a lovely teenage survivor to take the time with our beautiful Brookie #Warrior Princess. We will keep them both in our prayers for quick & permanent remission and no more finger pokes. Love & prayers to all! XXX
ReplyDeleteXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO....
ReplyDeleteAfter David lost his sight, inserting a nasal gastric tube was pure hell on earth. They would mummify him just to keep him still enough to insert the tube into his nose. I would cry. My heart broken into millions of pieces. I had to stop going in because he could sense my pain and anxiety. The nurses use to say to me "don't worry about the yelling and screaming, it's a good thing! It's when he stops fighting that you'll need to worry." I never knew what that meant until the last 7 weeks of his little life. He fought nothing. The needles went into his arms, legs, port..tubes were inserted without tears...I finally understood what they meant...I will forever wish that I didn't.
Someone said exactly this to me - you WANT to see her fight. You WANT her to have that fire in her. I am so so sad to know that David lost his, and that ultimately you lost him. My dear, you are an incredible woman and mom and I am grateful our paths have crossed. Draw on your faith, and wait for his signs. No doubt he is by your side. xoxo
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