Paper Cuts

I was sent an email from the mother of a bilateral Wilms patient who was able to put into words the things that I could not...at least not in a coherent way. Enjoy.

"Paper cuts still hurt."

That's what I said to a parent whose child didn't have cancer. She was telling me about a problem her child was having that was serious but not potentially fatal. She apologized and gave me what we've all heard before, the "How can I complain about my child when yours has cancer?" thing.

The way I explained it to her is, hey, even for me after diagnosis, if I got a paper cut, it still hurt. Sure, it was put into perspective, but that didn't mean I didn't curse and put my finger in my mouth and whine when I then got hand sanitizer on it.

I responded with how much I loved what she wrote. And how people always walking on eggshells around you can make it feel like there's a death cloud hanging over your head. SageSuperMom responds:

Thank you! Yes, the eggshells...that's still the one I'm dealing with. When people really want to talk to me about it, I try to make them understand how very "ordinary" cancer becomes. (Horrible, yes, but ordinary.) It's driving to chemo and remembering money to pay for parking and your child dropping hair in their spaghetti and saying funny things like, "I'm not sick! I just have cancer!"

I don't blame them for not getting it. I've been in cancer world for 4 years, and I still have the moments where I'm watching a St. Jude's commercial and feeling those things I felt pre-cancer. "Oh, those poor kids," and then having the (excuse my language) "Holy S---, my child has CANCER!" Because there's Cancer with a capital C, the thing you know before diagnosis, and then there's cancer with a little c-- that scary, annoying, and very real thing it becomes afer diagnosis.

And I think there's a vast chasm between the person who feels they shouldn't experience any pain in light of your circumstance and the person who is so completely self-focused, they don't even realize how ridiculous they sound. The "Oh, you're so lucky, you get to go on a Make-A-Wish trip" kind of person.

Nobody really WANTS to go on a Make-A-Wish trip.

Anyway, go ahead, you can complain to me about your problems. Don't feel guilty. I know canker sores still hurt.



Yet another person is shaving his head for St. Baldrick's this weekend! We are amazed by the strangers who are doing this in honor of Eve. Check out Michael's page here.

We had a great time at St. Baldrick's and encourage you to stop by one of their events if you have a chance. I promise, you [probably] won't find any hair in your beer.

Bruce Willis wins by a hair.

Who rocks the Kojak best of all?

32% of you said Charlie Brown.

28% of you said Uncle Fester.
39% of you said Bruce Willis.

I wonder who Ashton voted for?

Yesterday was our last trip to Rad-Onc for a while. They say she did well, as if she had a choice. It's not like you choose to lie still when you're on Propofol. Hopefully we won't have to see that particular sub-basement again until Eve's six-month follow-up appointment. Now it's time to scrub off all those sharpie crosshairs. FIN!

6 down, 0 to go. Back to counting down chemo treatments...

Eve's blood counts are up. We'll knock 'em back down this Friday for post-op chemo #2. But then we'll get them right back up again as all those little cells in Eve's body scream "Cuck Fancer!"

There is a light at the end of this proverbial tunnel.

Free Haircuts!

Ok, so the title might be a little misleading. (Kind of like that time I got excited over the "Free Cowboy Hats" sign in the ladies bathroom before realizing it was referring to a box of paper toilet seat covers.) But, shaving your head is fun. Otherwise, why would all these people be doing it?

This guy doesn't look too scared.

"I'll take the cut that the kid behind me got."

"A little more off the top, please."

Now John is on his way to rocking "The Eve." Move over, The Rachel. There's a new 'do in town.

$195,576.58 raised at the Hibernian for St. Baldrick's on Saturday. Many pints raised, too.

My life, the circus.

I'm finding it increasingly hard to be both Eve's mom and Natalie & Daniel's mom. It's a skill I'm still trying to acquire. Thank you, friends, who have taken in my sometimes-orphaned children.

I took a break from cancer today to take Nat and Dan to the circus with their preschool. Most awesome field trip EVER, by the way. After being warned don't try this at home about twenty times, Nat watched a man leap through a flaming hoop.

"Can I try that at home, Mommy?"

Yes, it was a fun morning. And I spent $23 on two sno-cones without the slightest twinge of guilt. Hey, the cups lit up!

Matt took Eve to get radiated while we watched assorted wildlife dance. I did feel a slight twinge of guilt about that. Next year, Eve will get to join us.

5 down, 1 to go.

Tomorrow, Rocco will be shaving his head for baby Gwyn.

Take a look at Gwynzilla and tell me you don't want to donate!


Looking forward to the two day nuke break.

What are the odds?

There's nothing like coming home from

radiation and crawling into bed...

Or a box. Times are tough!

4 down, 2 to go.

I told you a while back that an old coworker of mine was part of Club Wilms a few months before Eve was initiated. Her daughter, Gwyn, was diagnosed in June 2009 after her first birthday. I'm happy to say that Gwyn is N.E.D. (no evidence of disease). But I'm also sad to say that she just can't get a break- her family recently found out that lil' Gwyn is allergic to peanuts. And it's hard, once you have cancer, to make anything seem as sucky as cancer. But think of all those peanut butter sandwiches!!! If Daniel were allergic to peanut butter, he'd lose ten pounds the first week. My heart goes out to you, Momma G. The most ironic thing is that if Gwyn were being treated at Duke, she'd have to go to the allergy clinic...which is in the same place as the hem-onc clinic. But I guess this time it wouldn't be so bad since she would be the one in the waiting room with hair.

And do you know how many kids are diagnosed with Wilms in the US each year? 400-500. That's not a lot. Strange enough when you think about my ties to Gwyn. Stranger yet when you realize that 16-20 of those kids will have it bilaterally. And stranger still that a child who goes to our preschool was just diagnosed with it. And, (can it get any stranger?) that child is my friend's next door neighbor. It's weird to say, I know what you're going through and actually mean it. I guess I'd always hoped it would be something more along the lines of dealing with the problems of being too fabulous.

(I solemnly swear to all the parents at Sunrise UMC Preschool that Wilms tumor is not contagious.)

Ok, yet another absolutely cool kid is shaving his head in Eve's honor for St. Baldrick's. I don't know too many high school kids who are up to the challenge, so make sure you visit Vinicius T.'s page and show him some love.

They use frickin' laser beams!

Aside from the 30 minutes it took to get Eve's IV tube free of air bubbles, this morning was more of the easy-peasy variety.

Find Eve's tiny feet in the right side of this picture. It kind of looks like using a machine gun to kill a mosquito, no?

Target acquired.

3 down, 3 to go.

Chez Duke

Welcome to Radiation-Oncology.

Please take a seat in the waiting area. You will be the only person under 60 here. This will earn you bonus cheek pinching points.

There are only two things you can prevent: forest fires and germy hands. Help yourself to some complimentary hand sanitizer.

Please look natural as we take your photograph for our upcoming brochure.

Enjoy your stay.

A relaxing spa awaits.

Do be in awe of this bad boy. He's about to radiate your guts.

And take care not to get your terry cloth robe caught in the lead door. Do not be alarmed that this door will not block out sounds of screams...of pleasure.

Please contact housekeeping for turn-down service.

2 down, 4 to go.