Tiny Bad Guys

Last night, I laid down in bed while Ryan was brushing Katelyn's teeth. As any mother knows, it's extremely rare for the mom in a family to be the first in bed (Except in my case, during my ATRA rounds, I spend a lot of time in bed.). Katelyn (3 years old) came over to me with a concerned look on her face. The following conversation transpired:

Katelyn: Are you sick from your medicine?

Me: No, just tired.

Katelyn: Why do you take the medicine?

Me: Because some tiny bad guys got in my body when you were a baby, and I had to stay in the hospital while the doctors got rid of them. This medicine keeps the bad guys from coming back.

Katelyn: Are there bad guys in my body?

Me: No.

Katelyn: Are there bad guys in Daddy's body?

Me: No.

Katelyn: Why did the medicine make your hair fall out?

Me: It was so strong that it got rid of more than just the bad guys. It got rid of my hair too.

Ryan enters the room, and Katelyn flees down the hall to avoid being put to bed.

This conversation came two days after we watched the movie, UP, and I had to explain to her what had happened to Ellie, the old man's wife. The following exchange ensued:

Katelyn: Are you going to die, like the lady in UP?

Me: Some day, when I'm old, but not yet. I'll be an angel in heaven, like Grandma-With-the-Yellow-Hair

Katelyn: But you are old.

Me: Not too old. Ellie was a lot older.

Katelyn: I don't want you to die. I want you to stay with me forever.

Me: I will.


I'd hoped that her being so young when I was diagnosed would have spared us from the tough conversations. Hopefully I stay in remission so that as she continues to gain awareness, I can promise I'll be there for her. I fear letting her down more than I fear cancer itself.

Health Update

This morning my doctor rechecked my blood cell counts. They are all still normal, which is a huge relief, considering acute promyelocytic leukemia is a very aggressive disease. She drew blood for a PCR test, for which I may get the result as early as Wednesday.

This past weekend was the hardest my family's had since I came home from the hospital. For the first time in a while, we were worrying about: the the possibility of spending Christmas in the hospital; a bone marrow transplant (and losing any chance of having another child); the inevitable fear of "What if a BMT doesn't work?"; and would Katelyn have any memory of me?

Being a Parent with Cancer Intro

Last night, I tried to entice Katelyn to read a picture book about a boy and his pet dragon. Unlike me, who would love my own dragon, Katelyn is not a fan. I flashed a page showing the boy walking Sparky the dragon on a leash. In response, Katelyn dumped out a tub of blocks and began to play. I flipped to the next page, which depicted Sparky being examined by a pediatrician. Katelyn ran over to the couch, climbed up next to me, pointed at the physician, and said, "Dr. K! Katelyn's doctor is Doctor K. Mommy's doctor is Doctor Sharma."

My child is more interested in doctors than dragons or blocks.

Although she is only two, this past year has left it's mark on her as well. She's accompanied me to so many of my doctor's appointments--not to mention visiting me in the hospital, that she thinks being examined by a doctor is cool. She looked forward to her two-year check-up with Dr. K for weeks, and didn't even flinch during her immunizations.

This evening, she went with me to Dr. Sharma's office for a blood test. Without prompting, she charged down the hall to the lollipop jar. When Lily pulled two purple rubber gloves from the dispenser, Katelyn tucked her chin to her chest and wouldn't look up. She knew what would happen next.