Marie "Condo"-ing

We made it back to Toronto! The journey was uneventful for the most part and we are again grateful to our brother from another mother, Vic for packing us up and following us in a van with our belongings and moving us in, all while wearing gloves and a mask.

Our condo is nice and more modern than the last one, with the added bonus of an extra bedroom. At about 1100 square feet, it's still a lot smaller than our house, but it's comfortable and a block away from the hospital, so perfect for our needs. 

Toronto is busier than it was two months ago, but still not normal. Abby seems more comfortable this time, though and choosing a condo half a block away from the old one was a good decision. Ollie didn't want to stay in the same building as last time as he had bad memories of the relapse and wanted a clean start. We'll do anything to keep him mentally healthy as we go through this next challenge.

Abby got into the unpacking, putting all of our clothes away, Marie Kondo-ing them as she went. LOL

She picked a cosy little room off of the kitchen that would likely be truly considered a den. It's central to the living area, which will be good for keeping her engaged with the family since in typical tween fashion, she often wants to be in her room alone.

She brought a few things to personalize it and we bought a few things at the dollar store to make it feel like home for her for the next few months. I remember my parents moving a lot when I was a kid (they were divorced and one liked to buy, fix up and flip houses and the other was a real estate agent), so I got really good at making my new room feel like home wherever I was. 

We've lived in our house in Ottawa for 15 years this fall and I never imagined Abby would have the experience of trying to make a new place feel like home during her childhood. She's had a lot of new experiences because of cancer. Hopefully they will make her strong and adaptable her whole life, although I pray she never needs those qualities for a challenge like this one again.

She's also gotten into fresh smoothie making daily. It helps us to stay healthy and gives her something productive to do each morning, too. They're delicious so far!

 

Ollie has had his stressful moments, but has mostly been okay. Friday's radiation planning was tough as he was being obstinate when they tried to do his CT. They do the CT on his back with his head turned and then on his stomach with his head turned. When they did his stomach he screamed and cried- saying he couldn't keep his neck turned to that side for so long. Honestly he can do it, it's just that when he becomes fearful of something or has had enough he refuses to try. 

The technicians and the coordinator, Rita, were lovely and helped us through it. He did get it done in the end, but it made me nervous as we'd decided to do the two times daily radiation without sedation to make it faster and easier for him. If he has the sedation he'll have to be NPO (no eating, only sips of clear fluids allowed) from midnight until about 5:30 pm. That's because they need 7 hours with an empty stomach before sedation and his radiation is at 7:55 am and 3:30 pm. He'll be a bear if we have to do things that way! 

He says he'll work at stretching his neck next week and try it without sedation, but if he can't, it will likely change the timeline on everything and we NEED him to get the treatment and transplant ASAP. The good news is Ollie ALWAYS gets the hard stuff done. As much as he blusters about things he doesn't like, he never gives up. 

Mario is doing alright. He's holding on to that crazy beard until Ollie gets his transplant. Superstitious. He's been calmer this time settling in to Toronto. We both feel more confident, less fearful and more determined than ever that we are getting that transplant and leaving here with a child in true recovery after an agonizing year. 

He's still working from home thanks to his organization still being closed and his boss being so understanding. Friday a kind friend and colleague of his brought the family some Roti and jerk chicken. It was delicious and a lovely change.  

 

Ollie slept a lot yesterday and that worried us. His sleep patterns have been off at night lately, though so he's pretty tired at times during the day. Thankfully having consulted with some kind parents in the UK (thanks Lisa and Julia!) who have already been through this with their kids who have the same cancer, we believe it's due to finally stopping the Dexamethasone steroids this week after 5 months on it constantly and starting on the new hydrocortisone. The hydrocortisone should help to restart his own production of a natural steroid (cortisol), but so far has given him acne, dry skin and some minor mood changes. 

Given this, yesterday was a rough day, peppered with a few bright moments. Between worrying about how much he was sleeping (always fearful that lymphoma is back in his brain and trying to take over) and the online funeral that Abby and I attended for little Malcolm, we were pretty spent by end of day. 

Before the funeral though, a sweet friend from my youth, Frances and her son drove from the Hamilton area to bring us fresh preserves and canned pears. A true taste of home. When we were here last time and I was in the hospital with Ollie when he relapsed, she sent me the most beautiful survivor story and message of hope about her incredible daughter. She told me that miracles DO happen and that her daughter was daily proof. That was what I needed to hear at that moment. A heaven sent message that helped me to keep going when I felt all was lost. 

And she was right. It's a miracle that despite the odds he got back into remission and is here to get that transplant. Miracles happen. We don't need another miracle, just stability and strength enough for him to get through transplant and get truly well. We can do this.

I think maybe she was sent to me again yesterday to bring me strength just before we attended little Malcolm's online funeral. Like informal spiritual strength being brought to me. I'm surrounded by strong mamas who have done the hardest things and got through them and so can I. 

I've never attended a child's funeral before and I pray to God that we never have to again. It was a beautiful service, but that little white casket was devastating. His parents are so strong. Especially his brave mama. But she knows she has two other children that still need her. One of them still in her belly. She feels grateful to have been his mama. Not angry (although that may rightfully come later) at him leaving too soon, but pure love at having had him for any length of time. She is so kind that on the day her son died she also wished us well in Toronto and asked us to keep her posted on transplant because she wanted to know and Malcolm loved Ollie. Mamas are the bravest warriors, soldiering on and spreading light even in their darkest moments. 

Abby insisted on watching with me. She's an empath like me and felt it deeply, especially as she knew Malcolm has an older sister who just lost her brother. I tried to comfort her, telling her little Malcolm was too little and sick to fight the tumour after battling for 7 months and that I can't believe God would make Abby the stem cell donor for her brother, make him relapse, get him well again for a second attempt at getting her stem cells and not let her save him. Then I backtracked a bit to tell her if it doesn't work it's not her fault and she's done everything she can. It's hard not to give her mixed messages right now. I can only reassure her that I feel deeply that we are on a journey to remind people what's really important in these difficult times and to share our faith for those who may need some right now.

I apologize as I don't want to make it seem like I am hijacking nor exploiting Malcolm's story or his family's pain. It's just agonizingly a part of the cancer journey and as I try to be truly honest about what it's like, I must also include the things that impact us and our mental state, even if they are part of someone else's story. You're going to know some people who don't make it despite their brave fight. When it's a child, I think it's universally understood that it's so much more tragic and how could we not be affected by this beautiful family's story?!

So last night when Ollie finally woke, refreshed and full of energy, we were so grateful and played blindfold NERF gun target shooting with sticky darts with him. The blindfold was to even the stakes for Ollie given his blindness. We played in teams and gave directions to the blind/blindfolded person to help them hit the target and get the points. Ollie was thrilled, especially since he won.

Overall we're feeling okay and resting up this week for next week's radiation and chemo. We are studying plays so we have some tricks up our sleeves when we need them and readying for the big game in which we intend to come out the victors. Please keep cheering and praying for us. It pumps us up and makes us eager for battle.

Birthday Blessings and Woes

Yesterday was an insane day filled with a roller coaster of emotions. It was Ollie's 8th birthday and in the end that made it a good day, but there were several stressful and sometimes sad moments for us. I'll get to the stressful and sometimes sad stuff later, but first the good stuff...

People were overwhelmingly kind as always, dropping by goodies, cards, gifts, honking their love for Ollie as they drove by, sending a ton of online messages for him and making donations in his honour to Make A Wish Eastern Ontario (also in support of their Great Make A Wish Campout happening this weekend) to support the wishes of brave kids battling unfair illnesses like Ollie and our friend, Hillary McKibben. Thank you for always loving my kids and showing up when we need you.

At one point, Abby and I were on the porch talking to friends on the sidewalk when a man walked by, stopped and told us he had seen Ollie's story on the news. He said he makes balloon characters and could he put some in our front yard for Ollie? Turns out Brad the Balloon Guy is our neighbour a few doors down! How kind!

Later that evening, dear friends Casey, Maria and Sofia (who have been running our meal train for the past 8 months and doing ANYTHING we needed them to do) brought over the cake that Sofia had made for Ollie and joined us in a socially distanced celebration. Ollie was thrilled to have them and especially to show his NERF arsenal to Casey who is an officer in the military and a fountain of munitions knowledge. Ollie adores being part of interesting conversations with adults and his incredible brain retains so many technical details about things that he couldn't get enough details from Casey who was so patient.

Earlier in the day we got some gut wrenching news from another cancer, family that we have become friends with at CHEO. They've been told to prepare for end of life. Sometimes life is so very cruel. And so hard to understand why some get cancer and most don't. How some are saved and some are not. It's the part I constantly struggle with in my faith journey. 

Ollie heard the tears and wavering in our voices that morning and asked what was wrong. So we had to tell him on his birthday, the week he was told he is in remission and will get a lifesaving stem cell transplant, that his little friend may not make it. Ollie immediately did the sign of the cross and began to pray for his little buddy. It was beautiful and so sad. I was so proud of him and his faith despite everything he's been through, but also so heartbroken that this is happening. Their family has been in our hearts and our thoughts constantly since then, but we tried to go on and make the day as positive as possible for Ollie's birthday. Please say a prayer or send strength and positivity to the family of little M.

Later in the day we also opened presents Ollie was pretty pleased with everything he got. 

Ollie also got some lovely messages from Gabriel Pizza and the Ottawa Health Group (whom we miss dearly and will have a lot of work to do to fix my back after all of this!)

We had an online meeting with the Bone Marrow Transplant team at Sick Kids Hospital as well. It was good, but stressful. Abby sat with Ollie while Mario and I were in the meeting, but moments before both kids had been upset and crying...just a reaction to the stress that we can all feel surrounding us right now.

They can't start Ollie's radiation at Princess Margaret Hospital until July 14 because they don't have a bed for Ollie in the Bone Marrow Transplant Unit at Sick Kids until then. So we need to be in Toronto for this Friday, July 6 for the radiation planning, will have a few appointments and tests there the week of July 6, but the next big step starts July 14. Three days of two sessions of total body radiation daily, followed by two days of chemotherapy. Sunday the 19th will be a day of rest and then he gets Abby's lifesaving stem cells on July 20. From that time on Ollie and I will be admitted until he grafts, his new immune system is functioning (about three weeks) and he is strong enough to be released to stay nearby for about a month (about 6-8 weeks after transplant).  

The hard part is he'll be really sick again, likely lose a lot of weight (thank God he's fat from the steroids), have the mucusitus (mouth sores) again and just generally feel awful after being so well these past weeks. It's really hard to regress in order to ultimately progress and be cured. 

And of course, there are no guarantees. Thankfully, they are splitting Abby's stem cells in two because they have so much (thanks be to God and our overachieving daughter), so if the first transplant doesn't graft we have a second chance ready to go. 

But there are so few cases like Ollie's to base his treatment on (he himself is already part of several case studies because of his unique situation). Thankfully Dr. Ali is open to consulting with doctors of the few other families we have found around the world in similar situations. We are grateful to all of them for sharing their experiences and giving us hope.

Mario and I were sad after the call because we know how sick Ollie will be again and it's painful to have to choose to make him sick again. We also know we need to do this. We fight as one. It will be hard, but we can do this and finally get him well. It's his best chance at long term survival. Naturally we are also concerned about the timing. We don't want to wait too long and risk relapse again. The doctors are very aware of this, too. 

The few days before yesterday were also busy. As the kids wrapped up their school year online, I was planning to move our life to Toronto for at least the next 2-3 months and thankfully found a condo nearby as Ronald McDonald House needed us to be inpatient at Sick Kids for at least two weeks to be considered there. Thankfully the Pediatric Oncology Group of Ontario (POGO) is helping families like ours by paying for up to $100 per night towards accommodation as a result of COVID and difficulties getting into Ronald McDonald House. Between that and the generous gifts of cash we've received from so many friends and family, we are able to have a place to be together for the two weeks before transplant and a place nearby that is safe for Mario and I to swap places (as safety allows) for each of us to see the other child. With all of the stress we already have, we appreciate not having to worry about money right now despite my reduced income. People are overwhelmingly kind to us.

Ollie was so tired in his final class meet that he fell asleep for part of it, but was happy to wake in the end and wish his friends a happy summer. His teacher said a beautiful prayer including an intention for Ollie's stem cell transplant to go well and that he'd be healthy and back with the class next year. His class has been unwavering in their efforts to include him all year and let him know how much they love him. We couldn't have asked for better for him and are so thankful for the entire St. George community.

Abby's last class meeting was also bitter sweet. She has received so much love and compassion from her classmates, friends and educators this year. Her teachers, the principal and everyone at St. George have wrapped her in their love (even from afar during COVID) and taught her so much about kindness and selflessness this year. I also got a beautiful message from her teacher telling me how much she had learned from Abby's resiliency and bravery this year. This is the power of kindness and of mentoring. The mentee often teaches the mentor as much as the mentor teaches them. 

We take all of the St. G community, our friends and family with us in spirit as we go through the next step. Six months from transplant when we have a green light for him to be in public again (or whenever COVID is no longer am issue), you're all invited to the biggest party around and I have talented friends in event planning who have already come forward to help us put it together.

I am not sure how much time I'll have to blog over the next few days as we have a ton of pre-transplant tests at CHEO with Ollie, need to pack and ready to go, but promise to blog when I can. Thank you for continuing to follow along with us. We feel your strength behind us, propelling us forward to a cure. 

"If I can do four, I can do two."

Not a lot of time to write this morning as we ready for the hospital, but wanted to share Ollie's state of mind.

He woke at 5:30 and couldn't sleep anymore. He's been sleeping with one of us since his biopsy because we are worried. He was with Mario last night. So Ollie crawled into bed with me this morning, saying he couldn't sleep anymore. So we talked about what would happen today when they do the MRI, insert the PICC line where he'll get his meds and the chemo. 

While we were doing this, Chewbacca the cat came over and lay half on Ollie's chest and began to putt. This is incredible as he usually hangs out near Ollie, by but never on him as Ollie is too unpredictable and moves all the time. Even Ollie recognized the significance of this. The cat was comforting him and making him strong. 

When I asked him if he was afraid, he asked me if he was going to have more than one needle today and I said likely two. He had four yesterday and replied, "Nah...If I can do four, I can do two." 

We got this. More later...