Day 277

     Katie went to the clinic on Wednesday for her monthly dose of chemo and antibiotics.  Putting the IV in her hand verses the port is not going to be any easier.  Right now, it is actually harder - I hope it won't always be harder.  Katie is terrified!  She starts crying as soon as she learns we are going to the doctor (which is nothing new).  She will eventually stop crying, but she stays upset and clingy.  When the nurse comes into the room Katie starts crying again.  Scott and I hold Katie's body, arms and legs, while one nurse puts the IV in her hand and another nurse holds her arm down.  It takes 4 of us to get the job done.  Afterward, the nurses always say, "Wow, she is really strong!"  Then they look at us and say, "Are you guys okay?"  (We never are).  It is hard on all of us.  Throughout the process Katie always cries, "No mommy, no mommy, no...!"  It is heartbreaking.  Even Scott gets emotional.  I can not even begin to describe what it feels like to go through this.  It is hard, it is difficult, it is painful, it is not normal... That is what I thought this last time.  "This is not normal."  Our daughter is going through things that are not normal for a child to have to go through.  She is not having "a normal childhood."  A child should not have to experience the kind of terror and pain and sickness Katie is having to go through. 
     Katie will be getting her port taken out this Friday.  Scott is anxious to get it taken out - and I am just anxious about getting it out!  Hopefully all will go well.  Katie has done better this time around with her treatments than she did last month.  Her tummy hurt on Wednesday and Thursday, but she did not get as sick as she did last time.  Today is her last day of steroids for this month, and that too has not seemed as bad this time.  We are glad she was able to tolerate it better this month.  Par for the course, she is weaker than usual and hungry because of the steroids and a little moody, but it hasn't been overly extreme.  I don't know why it was so much harder last month than this month, but hopefully it will stay like this every month (which isn't great, but better than bad).
     I always seem to make a connection with a mother in the waiting room prior to going in for our appointment.  They are women who I would never have dreamed I would connect with - they are so totally different from me, different lifestyles - yet in those briefs moments in the clinic, I have felt such a deep connection to them.  They know and understand things about me and my life that no one else can - and vice-a-versa.  This last time, there was a mother with her son, who was about 8 years old.  Her son was fussing and she was getting frustrated with him.  I "recognized" her frustration.  She got a little short with him and then she looked over at me (embarrassed by her reaction).  I did not feel critical of her, I felt compassion for her.  When she looked over at me again, I said, "It is hard isn't it?"  She said, "It is hard!...very hard!!"  Our eyes teared up and we both connected.  She looked at me again later with a look of deep gratitude.  Her mood changed with her son after that, she was now comforting him rather than being harsh with him.  It was like the pressure had been relieved a little, just by being able to acknowledge how hard it is - with someone who understands.  Nothing else was said between us, and I will probably never see her again, but I will always remember her.  This is hard!
     Katie can always seem to find the joy and good in everything.  A couple of days ago, I found a scorpion in my shower.  I wanted Katie to see it and know what it is, so she would not touch one if she ever saw one.  As I am trying to explain to her that it is a bad bug, Katie sees the scorpion move and says to me, "Oh! It is a sweet bug!! (giggle, giggle).   Even after I explained to her what it is and what it does, she was still looking at it (and talking to it) affectionately.  And again last night, we were walking outside and there were a group of flies flying around us, the rest of us were shewing them, saying things like, "Stupid flies," "Go away flies."   Katie started giggling and said, "They are sweet flies, they tickle me!"  She is the sweet one!  She maintains her sweetness and joy amidst such adversity and pain.  At the clinic, after her IV is in, Katie always seeks to comfort us, as we are trying to comfort her.  She is such a good girl.  I love her so much!  I hope she will always be able to maintain her loving, sweet, compassionate, and joyful nature!

     President Monson has said: “None of us makes it through this life without problems and challenges—and sometimes tragedies and misfortunes. After all, in large part we are here to learn and grow from such events in our lives. We know that there are times when we will suffer, when we will grieve, and when we will be saddened. However, we are told, ‘Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.’

     "How might we have joy in our lives, despite all that we may face? Again from the scriptures: ‘Wherefore, be of good cheer, and do not fear, for I the Lord am with you, and will stand by you.’ ” ...“My beloved brothers and sisters, fear not. Be of good cheer. The future is as bright as your faith.”  (“Be of Good Cheer,” Ensign, May 2009, 89).