Ky and I wish to report that sometimes the grass really is greener. Mostly. We got to go home for a few days. What was once mundane seemed so magical – I can’t quite explain it. Our time in Eden wasn’t without reminders of our current reality – there was medicine to take and his line needed to be flushed and maintained and we had about 18 hours worth of a fever that required antibiotics. But…we had so many average, beautiful moments.
We spent time as a family, we spent time with dear friends, we paired off for mama/daughter and father/son adventures, and then we came back together to compare notes. We told each other “I love you” more than what most people would regard as socially acceptable. Given the last month of our lives, I don’t think any of us are willing to leave anything to chance.
On the same day his friends celebrated the end of elementary school with a 5th grade farewell ceremony, Ky learned that he needs a bone marrow transplant. It feels as though my son has had to take a temporary leave of absence from being a kid. The depth of unfair as it relates to Cancer seems to know no bounds.
The night he ran the high fever, he reached for me in the darkness. I thought he was fast asleep; I was laying next to him counting his breaths. He put his hand on my shoulder and said “Mama, we’re going to beat this.” It was the first time since his initial diagnosis that I heard that kind of resolve from him. I don’t know if I’d truly exhaled since I learned he had Leukemia…until then. Finally, there was a reserve of strength that wasn’t just about the day-to-day.
As for now, Ky and I are back at Maine Medical Center. Yesterday morning he had a bone marrow biopsy, as well as a spinal tap and intrathecal chemotherapy. Late yesterday afternoon, his second round of chemotherapy started. His bone marrow is on its way to Seattle for testing to help us better understand how the Leukemia responded to the first round of chemo. Our greatest hope is that he will be in remission.
The doctors in Boston are currently working with the National Bone Marrow Registry on a formal search for Ky’s donor. He has ten people who are perfect matches. When I can’t sleep, I think about what those ten people are doing, whether they’ll be willing and able to help Ky as we move forward, what they’re eating for breakfast, and how, when this is all said and done, I will ever repay them. I think I’ll start with ‘thank you’….and I’ll say it over and over again as he gets to return from his temporary leave of absence…