All Clear
I knew there wouldn't be any bad news today, but I was still careful in picking out my outfit for this morning's ultrasound. I learned from the first time not to wear anything I really like to an ultrasound appointment; even though the sticky jelly I ended up covered in washed right out of the dress, every time I looked at it all I could think about were the words, "Twelve Centimetre Tumour." Eighteen months later and I still haven't worn that dress again.
Everything is different now. Regan is a healthy, happy, active toddler, not a critically ill, undiagnosed infant. Instead of distended belly and a gaunt face, she's got chubby little cheeks and the same slender build as her sister. Today she was old enough to understand what was going on, and to be bribed with a sticker; the first time we did this dance, she was too little to be anything but terrified, and all the princess stickers world wouldn't have been enough to convince her to lie still on the gurney. A year and a half ago, the techs were inscrutable, sticking firmly to their "you have to call your doctor" scripts; now, they give me a subtle thumbs up, reassuring me that there's nothing to see here.
A week after her first birthday I was told that Regan had a 12 cm neuroblastoma in her abdomen. The day after that, we began what I was told would be a long odyssey through the world of oncology. Three weeks later, it was over.
We were lucky. Well, as lucky as you can be when your infant has a tumour 1/8 of her total body mass stretching her bowel to the breaking point. But, it wasn't a neuroblastoma. It was benign. Incredibly rare, and still potentially life threatening, but benign. Which meant that after the surgery to take it out, we were free and clear. No chemo. No chemicals, No hard choices.
Our family was changed by those three weeks in March, but it wasn't shattered. While some of the effects of that experience are still being explored--Diva Girl, for example, is just starting to be able to talk about how she was affected by that time--it's not an every day part of our lives anymore. As a mother, it's always in the back of my mind, but luckily it's only at the forefront of my life every six months.--like today.
We can live with that.
Comments
Thats great news!! God bless you and the girls
It sucks MONKEYBALLS that you guys had to go thru that. But at least you have that spanky costume.... :)
Glad all is well.
Those were some of the most gripping posts I've ever read. I had never before immersed myself in someone's archives like I read that month. On the edge of my seat, my fingers clenched round the sides of my laptop.
I'm SO GLAD she's okay!
