Four Years

Just after ringing in the new year I started to feel it, the emotion that I'd been trying to deny was taking over and I was becoming an edgy, heavyhearted mess.  The more distance we have from hospitals and tests makes it all the harder to come back to.

The Scan:
Georgia was scheduled for a DEXA scan to check her bone density just two days after we arrived home from Montana.  She'd never been old enough to have one before and the lengthy conversation I'd had with the radiology tech months ago was doing little to ease my nerves.  I waited until the day before the scan to tell Georgia, she was less than pleased but seemed more annoyed than upset.
We arrived at Children's and were called back by a nice tech named Maryanne.  She introduced herself to Georgia, said she was going to take a few pictures and that nothing would hurt.  We followed her down the hall, I smelled the surgical unit, the sterile stench that makes my stomach turn.  Through the first set of double doors and I looked to the left, the MRI waiting room where I first learned something was drastically wrong with Georgia's leg.  After passing through the next set of double doors, I could have been knocked over by a feather.  I looked at the doors on either side of the hall, each with large signs warning of radiation.  This is where Georgia had her CT scan the day after we'd been admitted to the hospital.  I clearly remember laying her sedated little 10 month old body on the bed then the nurse showing me the door to leave, I walked across the hall and literally crumbled into my sisters arms.  As we neared the room for the DEXA scan, all I could think was, if these walls could talk.
Georgia followed directions perfectly, laying still as the bed and scanning arm moved simultaneously to get pictures of her hips, spine and whole body.  I choked back tears, realizing how wrong it felt that my five year old was laying there, wondering if the chemotherapy and steroids that ultimately got us to this point had damaged her bones.
Upon completion the tech asked me if Georgia could have nail polish, she was thrilled when a large bin of polishes were opened, she picked blue with sparkles.  Later that night I asked her how she felt about having the scan, "fine" she said in a confident voice.  Were you scared?  Almost laughing she answered "no!"  We were free for a week until her four year post transplant blood draw and Oncology appointment.

I'm not sure if I thought the emotions were gone, had been dealt with or maybe I'd overcome it all but during our free week it was abundantly clear that I was stuck in the grief that I have, the kind that sits on your chest making it difficult to breathe.  It's not an elephant on my chest, more like two bricks, you notice the weight, particularly when remembering all that's happened.  This time of year is hard for me, really hard.  I am so grateful that Georgia doesn't remember the events of her battle against cancer, in some ways I think I may carry the grief that could have been hers right along with mine.
I think this is a big misconception about winning against cancer, that you should only feel the great joys of a battle won, but in reality, despite trying to leave it behind, I think I will always carry the grief for what I witnessed my daughter endure.

The Appointment:
We arrived right on time, checking in at the Hem/Onc Clinic to get Georgia's ID band and Allergy bracelet.  You can't help but look around at the faces in the waiting room, small children with balled heads sitting in wheel chairs, feeding tubes and sickness on children's faces, it's all gut wrenching. Then in a moment you realize that was you, that was your norm and thoughts start going, remembering how you didn't know any different but you do now, and the heartache begins again, how was this our life?
Georgia did an excellent job with her blood draw, then we headed to the cafeteria to have a snack while we waited for our appointment an hour later.  Once back and checked into our room we waited for the inedible quick knock on the door followed by the doctor coming in the room.   The appointment was fairly quick and quite frankly Georgia was bored.  The DEXA scan showed the bone density of a healthy, normal five year old, and yes I clarified, this is being measured against children who've never had cancer.  Her labs all showed a healthy, growing girl.  The thyroid test was still outstanding but our doctor said he'd call me with the results by the end of the day.  I wanted to be excited but they thyroid test is one we've had to have repeated in the past, so I was pleased but wanted to have everything back before I felt like I could move on.
We left the hospital and headed out to lunch, I sat across from Georgia just sort of gazing at her, truly a miracle.  We had a fun lunch then happened to find a frozen yogurt shop, she finished things off with a sundae, and appropriately, a cherry on top.
Later that afternoon I got the call that Georgia's thyroid test was back, everything looks normal the doctor said.  For the first time since this journey began I was told that we didn't need to be seen again for one year.  After a few more questions I hung up the phone, tried to exhale and quickly felt a lump in my throat and tears down my face.  How did all of this happen?  How did we get through this?  I'll never fully understand, I don't think I will ever get past the sadness but I live each day so incredibly thankful.  Georgia is the most remarkable girl.

Four Years:
Here we are, four years post transplant, I can't help but think about our donor, Manuel, how one simple act of registering to be a bone marrow donor changed the course of our lives.  He is such a truly kind human being, the sort of person that you feel honored to be a part of your child.

Life is good, I've had a few days to recover from the stress leading up to the tests and am regaining focus on my precious family, craziness and all.  We're off the hook for a year, so if you need us, we'll be busy living, doing anything we'd like!

 Here we are in clinic with one of the nurses who cared for Georgia and Dr. Rebecca Gardner, she is a big part of the cutting edge t-cell trials that are happening (and working!) to change cancer treatment for children.  She also happens to be one of Georgia's doctors, she was all smiles when she saw her, remarking that she thinks she'd grown a foot since she'd seen her last! 

 Four Years Cancer Free...

certainly worthy of a cherry on top!