Raw Emotion

Written Friday, February 24th at 1:07 am:

Just an FYI... please don't post about this on Facebook or other social networking sites. It's a very personal situation and we aren't ready to share these tender feelings with everybody and their dog. (It's ok to post now, we are over the initial shock of things and are now in FIGHTING mode!)

Where do I even begin?

JP is a picky eater. So picky that each and every meal is usually a battle. That being said, the last month has been extremely difficult. The kid just doesn't like to eat. It's not even like we try to feed him asparagus - sometimes the go-to foods like chicken nuggets and pizza are enough to make him gag.

The other night we were at Josh's ward basketball game where JP was playing with his friends. A few of the other moms were saying how pale JP looked and I kept saying, "Oh, he's always been super fair. He's a white, white boy!" After the game I started thinking maybe we should see a professional, I'm sure we could use some pointers on how to get him to eat and maybe that would help him not appear so pale.

Of course, I come home and google "my pale toddler" and the two things that pull up are Anemia (likely) and Leukemia (unlikely). As I'm reading through the symptoms of both I realize JP has all of them. I tell myself, of course it's not leukemia. It's never the worst case scenario. I'm sure it's just anemia and if we can get a dietician or nutritionist to help us we can fix his iron deficiency. I call his pediatrician and make an appointment to have his iron level checked.

This morning we went to the pediatrician, had his iron checked and I hear the doctor talking to the nurse outside the door and she says, "3.6" to which he replied, "No, you're kidding me!" I thought surely they weren't discussing my son but in the pit of my stomach I knew they were and it wasn't good. Next, the doctor comes in the room, tells me JP needs to go to the emergency room at Primary Children's and that he will call to tell them I'm on my way. How soon can you get there, can we drive you, do you need us to call your husband, will you be okay are all questions they are firing at me as I gather my things. I hold it together, tell them I'm fine and we'll head there right away. I walk out of the office and get to the car and call Josh. "We are going to Primary Children's Hospital," I say. "Really? What did the doctor say?" I tell him they said basically nothing but it must be serious since they offered to take me and call my husband and wanted to make sure I was ok. Oh, and they wished me luck as I walked out the door.

At the ER, my mom meets us and we are seen by a million doctors and answer the same questions a million times. We aren't told anything except they are going to bring in the IV Team to run an IV "just in case they admit him." JP cries his eyes out as they poke him to get the IV in, begs for some apple juice and we wait. We literally waited in the ER for about 5 hours before a doctor came in to tell us what the preliminary blood results were. "Things we are looking at are leukemia, lymphoma, ITP and anemia," the doctor tells us. At that moment, I knew the worst case scenario was about to play out. Self-diagnosing on the internet always leads you to believe you have the worst case scenario but it always ends up not being so serious. Google, unfortunately, was right on with this one. I remember thinking while I was googling, of course it's just anemia. He's just going to get a vitamin supplement and in a few weeks he'll be completely fine and normal. I actually thought, ohmygosh what if it is leukemia? I guess I'm grateful for Google in that it prepared me to hear those words coming out of the doctor's mouth, but honestly, nothing can prepare you to hear those words coming out of the doctor's mouth. To think it is one thing, to have a medical professional tell you that's what they're afraid they're looking at... that's a completely different thing. A completely sickening, saddening, at a loss for words type of thing.

We were told a lot of numbers, most of which I don't remember what they had to do with anything, but some of JP's levels were 32,000 (should be around 10,000), 9,000 (should be 150,000) and of course the 3.3 which should be, at the very minimum, at least a 12. We meet with a hemotologist who tells us they are preparing a room for us where they will start blood transfusions for JP. His blood cell levels are super low and they need to get them up before they can determine for sure what we are dealing with. Tonight they started the blood transfusions and platelets and hopefully in the morning his platelet levels will be high enough that they can do a bone marrow test, which will either confirm whether this is, in fact, leukemia. We are told that a smear of his blood examined under a microscope has all the indications of ALL Leukemia. I guess that's the kind of leukemia we want if we're going to have it. The survival rate is supposed to be extremely high.

As the mother of this sweet boy, I'm literally heartbroken. How could this happen? Why would it happen to such a good little boy? Why is it him, not me, fighting this terrible illness? I am in utter disbelief and sorrow. I was holding JP earlier and he looked up at me and said, "Mommy? Sad?" I hugged him close and said, "Yes, son. Mommy is sad." He eaned in and kissed me on the cheek, of course breaking my heart even more. This sweet boy is facing and uphill battle which will more than likely involve chemotherapy and feeling crappy for a very long time, yet his concern is that his mommy is sad and he wanted to make her feel better.

Josh gave him a tender blessing tonight with my dad. I don't remember what was said, but I remember feeling Josh's pain as he struggled to say the words of the blessing and also thinking it will be fine. It won't be easy, but it will be okay. Josh and his brother gave me a blessing of comfort as well and JP cried through the whole thing so I literally did not hear any of that blessing either... Once the blessing was over and we calmed JP down, we realized he thought Josh was saying our nightly prayers and he wanted to say them. Of course, we had to say family prayers right away and let JP say them. Another small reminder that my son is so much stronger than I am. His eagerness to pray and talk to our Heavenly Father just touches my heart.

We will not know until at least morning how the transfusions are going, but we hope that by the afternoon/evening we will be sending him in for the bone marrow test so we can know for a surety what we are about to go through.

It's been a tough day, to put it lightly. I never imagined in a million years my son might have cancer. I'm still in disbelief. I wish this was all just a bad dream and I'm going to wake up from it soon. Somebody, please wake me up and tell me everything is fine and JP isn't in the hospital, hooked up to a million machines with chemotherapy looming just around the corner. Somebody, please!