From the minute that I knew I was pregnant with each of my children I was on a mission to protect them. I stopped smoking with my first pregnancy. I took prenatal vitamins in spite of the unpleasant constipating side effect. I ate my vegetables and drank gallons of milk. I insisted on unmedicated delivery because I worried about the effect of drugs on the baby.
Once those babies arrived I stepped up my efforts, child proofing the house before they could even hold their heads up. I breast fed them and made my own baby food, and would not keep plastic bags in the house for fear of suffocation. I used spray bottles of "Monster Spray" to monster proof their bedrooms, and amazingly it worked. I could go on and on.
No matter how hard we try, we cannot protect our children from all of the possible harm that can come to them. I often say that it is a wonder so many children live to adulthood considering all of the dangerous things that can befall them. Then, when they are teenagers the fact that we don't kill them with our own bare hands is a miracle in itself. Now I am forced to watch as my daughter battles for her life, and there is not one thing I can do to help her. I want to reach down inside my daughter's lung and rip out this monster with my bare hands. Where is the Monster Spray for sarcoma?
It is such torture to watch as she struggles to breathe while poisonous drugs are flowing into her veins in a desperate attempt to shrink the tumor one more time. The chemo drugs make her nauseous, the drugs they give for nausea make her disoriented. She can't eat and her lungs are filling up from all of the fluids that they give her to protect her kidneys from the poisons they are pumping into her. The diuretics they give her to get rid of the fluid have her running to the toilet so often that it is hard for her to sleep. My own oncologist told me today that he has had great success with the treatment that they are giving my daughter now. I am holding onto those words, to the belief that she is not going through this hell for nothing.
Deborah, My heart is breaking for you. I can't begin to fathom the incredible pain you are in. As the mother of a chronically ill child, I somewhat understand, how hard it is to feel like there is nothing you can do for Erin, yet you want to do everything for her. I want you to know you are never out of my thoughts, even though we have never met. I pray daily for you and for Erin. I love that girl...
ReplyDeleteDeb, I have had many ordeals with my own children that have absolutely felt like torture and were incredibly painful. We've shared these ordeals together. I cant imagine being in your shoes right now, you, Erin and your entire family, have really been given a nightmare to deal with, not to mention your own health to take care of. I pray that your stress and worry will be lessened by our prayers and your own doctor;s belief. I wish that we could all gather round in unison like the YaYa Sisterhood and rid Erin of this evil monster that is making her suffer, I love you both and don't let a day go by without positive thoughts and prayers for you both. Love You.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing. Perhaps there is some strength that comes from sharing pain and knowing others care....You are a word smith and communicate well.
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