A snapshot of child life

Last week Brooklyn and I took a trip up to McMaster Children's Hospital to visit our friend Nancy, one of two child life specialists in oncology. The pre-planned appointment was set with a goal of preparing Brooklyn for her next MRI, taking place this week.

Brooklyn spent about an hour with Nancy, focusing their time together on IV insertion and use as well as the MRI machine. Brooklyn's last experience went very poorly in nuclear imaging so Nancy kindly suggested we be more proactive in our approach this time around.

Brooklyn learned about how the needle retracts after entering the vein and leaves only a 'straw' behind in her body. She was reminded how helpful emla cream is in reducing needle pain, and practiced removing bandages carefully and slowly to diminish hurt. They talked about the difference between 'sleeping' at home and 'sleepy medicine' at the hospital, and why its so important she sleep through this test.

She also made a diagram to remind herself what she can and cannot do on the day of her MRI. The outside depicts things she can do - play ipad, close her eyes, take a deep breath, etc - and the inside marks the four things she cannot do - run, hit, yell or kick. She also pre-picked a special prize to reward her for good behaviour at this week's appointment.

Here are a few photos to help visualize her experience.




Visual reminder of can and can't dos.




Brooklyn giving her doll 'sleepy medicine'.




Step one of IV insertion.




After placing 'emla' on Nancy's hand, she then
practiced taking the band-aid off to reduce pain.




Miniature MRI machine

The child life team at Mac are incredible people. They are courage-builders, peace-makers, teachers and cheerleaders for children experiencing traumatic and scary situations. My heart is always so darn full after spending any amount of time with them.

Brookie's MRI is this week. I will share her results later in July.
Please pray for a NED result.

#TeamBrookie #WarriorPrincess

To my husband on our anniversary

On June 24th Jay and I mark a very special milestone.
Ten years of marriage.

We don't remember our wedding song. (and we think this is funny)
I can't remember our first date. (movies? dinner?)
But we will never forget the day we sent our first fur baby over the rainbow bridge.

You love beer.
I love rum and coolers.
But we secretly prefer a cold fountain pop to just about anything alcoholic.

We've endured two apartments.
One mouse house.
One family mortgage.

Three dogs.
One fish.
Two induced labours.
One emergency c-section.

I've had three surgeries.
You've had one. And a pretty scary MRI I do recall.
Throw in a broken ankle for good measure.

We've struggled to connect.
Taken our anger out on each other.
Minced words over nonsense.

Sleepless nights.
Anxiety filled days.
Overwhelming weeks.

Yet here we are.

Strong.
Faithful.
Loving.
In love.

Our relationship is built on a foundation of mutual respect, deep love and genuine appreciation for our similarities but more importantly our differences. We couldn't care less about the jones' or any other societal pressure to be something we are not.

We are who we are.
And it feels so darn good.

We've learned that stuff - possessions and displays of income - mean very little to us. We took a giant financial leap backward just to prove this point. And we both still appreciate this decision, four years later.

We are raising our children to express love.
Help the helpless.
Trust in God.
Sing because it feels good.
Dance for every reason possible.
Cuddle.

We've admittedly allowed our relationship to take a backseat to the daily rituals of life with three kids. But we don't mind because we know we love one another. Our bond is quiet, yet the strongest piece of our family. We know it, and our kids find comfort in this.

Thank you for loving me, especially on days when I don't even love myself.
For picking me up off the floor on my worst days.
And celebrating the best ones.

For reminding me of our blessings.
And turning down the to-do list echoing in my head.
For making me laugh every. single. day.

Thank you for being an incredible father.
Husband.
Best Friend.
Soul Mate.

Thank you for ten years, Jay.
Love, pure love, our love, will always carry us <3

Here's to ten more.

First since

This weekend was a special one.

Brooklyn celebrated her 6th birthday.
She also participated in her third-ever dance recital, a tap number for Fascination Dance Studio.

This birthday was her first since being diagnosed with cancer.
This recital was her first since being hospitalized.

First since.

The thing about cancer is that once someone you know is diagnosed, mortality bullies ego.

I thought about the death of my daughter from cancer.
I considered that it was possible to lose her, after more than five years on this earth.

Children die of cancer.
Despite medicine, surgery and prayer.
Daughters and sons die.
Brothers and sisters leave their siblings.

Brooklyn's outcome is far and away a small minority of cases. Last I spoke with Brooklyn's oncologist I was told that most children Brookie's age land on the opposite end of the spectrum, with widely spread and stubborn tumours requiring intense therapy.

But that didn't happen to Brooklyn.
She is NED.
No evidence of disease.

She is gorgeously recovered, and as a family we find ourselves marvelling at the first since situations.

This weekend we shed more tears of joy, felt more pride and healed more than we ever imagined. Jay shared with Brooklyn that he shed those tears today, while watching her dance her final tap performance to Bippity Boppity Boo, a fitting tribute to the princess who lived by 'have courage and be kind.'

Brooklyn responded to her Daddy's story by reminding him that the last time he shed those tears was when she was discharged from the hospital, post-surgery.

Tears of joy, another first since we feel so blessed to experience.

#TeamBrooklyn #WarriorPrincess

A lifetime of courage

I was at a local early years centre this morning, chatting with my sister-in-law about my messy morning and as we're talking, she was tickling my niece. Anyone who knows my niece can attest to the fact that she's adorable (and reminds me of Brooklyn's little days) and silly and fun.

My niece lifted up her shirt, begging for more tickles.

I stared.
My eyes were fixated on her adorable stomach.
There was no scar there.

My heart hurt.
My eyes stung.
It caught me off guard, to feel such grief.

Brooklyn's belly will always mark the place where doctors saved her life.
She will tell her cancer story every time someone notices the scar.

A four inch bravery line.
A lifetime of courage.

#TeamBrooklyn #WarriorPrincess

National Cancer Survivors Day

 

Today she climbed wooden obstacles. Tackled hay stacks. Crawled in the dirt.

Today she proved why neuroblastoma couldn't win.

Today, Brooklyn demonstrated why she is a child cancer survivor.

Today she is my hero.

 

#TeamBrookie #WarriorPrincess