"Have a Magical Day"

Last Thursday, we took Katelyn to the Magic Kingdom in Disney World. It was a fantastic day, followed by four more great Florida days. Exactly the vacation we needed before the chemotherapy next week. My parents have been helping us so much this year, and Ryan has been an amazing husband and father. It was so nice to have fun with them away from the doctor consultations, infusion appointments, and household chores with which they'd been involved. I am so lucky to have so much support.

When we first entered the Magic Kingdom, a "cast member" from Cheyenne, Wyoming, who scanned my ticket, said, "Have a magical day." Despite my great mood, the phrase made me pause. When is the last time someone told you to have a magical day? It's not that I didn't want us to have such an experience. On the contrary, I was already grinning at Katelyn's excitement over spotting Cinderella's castle. It's just that it's an odd greeting. Try it out on a colleague or a store clerk, and you'll agree with me.

As silly as the expression sounds, we did have a magical day. Rather, a magical weekend.

I've always loved Disney and Florida, but it felt even better this time. We did walk on a white sandy beach in August, just as I'd wished for in early April. We also went boating and swimming, and my mom and her good friend, Jennifer, bought me a piece of chocolate cake to celebrate my last remission test.

After more research and talking to my other doctor last week, I better understand how the IVIG (antibodies infusion) will help me. Basically, it's an immune system booster. I've gotten so used to feeling sick and tired that I've forgotten what it's like to feel healthy, which the infusion should help accomplish. I received platelettes or hemoglobin almost daily this spring while in the hospital. This shouldn't be that different. My doctor took another blood sample this evening. If my IgG (immunoglobulin) level is still low, I'll have the six hour infusion this Thursday or Friday, so that I will benefit from the extra antibodies before the Daunorubicin next week wipes out the bone marrow cells that produce new blood cells.

Life is a beach.

During the IVIG this week and the chemo treatments next week, I will have great Florida memories to distract me. My grandma reminded me of this after I told her about our trip. Her perpetual positive attitude continues to amaze me. She's always loved Disney. Must be because she believes in magical days.