On June 1, 2010 our two year old, "Little Air Bear," was diagnosed with Childhood Acute Myeloid Leukemia (AML) Type M7. After enduring 146 days at Primary Children's Hospital, Erin is now in remission and living a full life at home with our family. Her strong will and constant happy smile is an inspiration to us all. Through our difficult circumstances we found great strength and peace in our Savior, Jesus Christ. Thank you for checking in on us.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

You Know You're A Parent Of A Kid With Cancer When...

You know your a parent of a kid with cancer when... 
(I got this idea from Dani's post HERE and altered these to things that happened to us)

1. Kids with hair look kind of strange to you
2. Your pockets, purse, and other nooks and crannies are full of sanitizing wipes
3. Waterproof mascara becomes a necessity...
4. ..then mascara and any other make-up becomes something of the past
5. You can sleep anywhere, and anything that reclines more than 15 degrees looks "comfy"
6. You don't realize the Sharps container is on the kitchen table until half-way through dinner
7. You enjoy the drive at 5am to the hospital because there aren't any other cars on the road
8. Your kid could give you precise directions on how to get to the hospital
9. You do your hair and your Oncologist doesn't recognize you
10. You hear a truck back up and you think the IV is beeping
11. You are so proud when your baby finally gets hair (and she is 2 1/2!)
12. Your IV supplier knows the way to your house without directions
13. Your 3-year-old's baby doll is always throwing up because she has leukemia too
14. You can maneuver a double IV pole while pushing a kid in a little tykes car on a tour of the cancer ward, and make it back to the room before the low-battery alarm sounds and the kid has to pee.
15. The nurses stop responding to the IV alarm knowing you'll fix it
16. Your 2 year old holds completely still while her arm is getting squeezed to death by the blood pressure cuff
17. You child's daily conversations include "leukemia" "cancer" and "chemo"
18. Your two year old knows where all the medical equipment goes, and how to use it
19. You can eat with one hand while you hold the barf bucket with the other
20. You keep a bag packed at all times like your 9 1/2 months pregnant
21. Your child's bedroom looks like a Toys R Us store
22. The pharmacy techs ask you how to spell that medication, again
23. The pharmacy tech says, "your 7 day medication (that they pronounce wrong) will cost $700, there isn't a generic form, do you still want me to order that?" You don't blink an eye and say, "of course."  
24. You can get to church early because you have one less head of hair to comb
25. There are four new Mercedes in the doctors' parking lot due to your child's payments
26. You can communicate with your family practitioner in medical lingo
27. You take two dressing change kits everywhere you go
28. You can read the blood work reports better than your nurse
29. You have more meds in your cupboard than food
30. You have more IV meds in your fridge than food
31. You decorate the green chemo masks with silly faces
32. None of the security in the hospital ask you for your ID anymore
33. Your main source of nutrition comes from Tylenol and Pepto Bismol
34. You wrap your daughter's birthday presents with medical tape
35. Your child is more familiar with CT scanners and MRIs than the portrait studio
36. You don't have to ask, "What's that mean" to the previous 35 items (or the next 35)
37. You know that the CBC results will either make or break you
38. You hear yourself say, "I'll buy you anything you want" at least once a day
39. At any get-together you get asked by more than 30 friends "so, how is your daughter doing?"
40. You really think this list is funny, when most normal people either don't get it or start to cry
41. When a Radio Flyer wagon is considered an essential transportation device
42. When you walk down the hall in your house holding one of your other kids and feel odd because you're not trailing an IV pole with the other hand
43. When her ANC is something that determines how well your day is going to be
44. You make new friends, in your pajamas, hair askew, at a breakfast cart
45. When people stare at your child and ask if they are a boy or a girl
46. Your kid takes more medications than your grandma
47. You can reset the IV meds overnight, in your sleep, every 30 minutes without waking up once and still call it a good nights sleep
48. The "CK" on your tee shirt stands for Chemo Kid, not Calvin Klein
49. Your child receives so many toys while in the hospital that at Christmas time you can open your own toy store
50. When every little thing can make you cry
51. When people call to see how you're doing and they start crying the minute you say hello
52. You spend most conversations telling people, "it's okay" when really you want to shout out that you hurt really badly inside
53. When your child is ecstatic because they are getting a poke in the arm and not a bone marrow aspirate
54. You can make a variety of arts and crafts out of hospital supplies
55. You can only get your daughter to drink from a 10ml syringe not a cup
56. When the doctor finally enters your room and finds you and your child with latex glove powder around your mouth from blowing up the gloves
57. When it's time for your 2 year old to have her vital signs taken and she lifts her arm and sticks out her foot without crying or fighting
58. You have a collection of pink "throw-up-buckets" in every room of your house
59. You think that root beer and Cheetos is a "nutritious meal" because it's all she'll eat
60. Your reading materials consist of insurance statements and bills
61. Your daughters hair finally grows back and no one in the cancer ward recognizes her anymore
62. When your bookshelves have more childhood cancer books than potty books
63. You have forgotten how to cook because you spent the last year eating in a cafeteria and having meals brought to your home by kind neighbors
64. Your daughters hair is starting to grow back and a stranger says, "my daughters hair took forever to start growing too" and you say, "oh, your daughter had chemo too" and they look at you very confused and say, "no"
65.Your daughters hair is growing in like a 70's Beetles shag.
66. You wish there was as much GOLD as there is PINK
67. You have a huge collection of headbands and knitted hats
68. The feelings you felt the day your child was diagnosed are just as real today as they were then
69. You have to explain to your kid that cancer is not something every child usually deals with
70. Your 3-year-old has her own blog

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