Love gets us through

A couple weeks ago, Ev came running to me with tears in his eyes. He had hit his head. It was no big deal...a typical hit kids take repeatedly. He begged for a kiss and quickly. 

I kissed his head and he looked at me and said, it still hurts! I said, I can't take the pain away, all I can do is give you some love.

After I said this two thoughts came to mind...1) how God has given me that response multiple times (the pain can't be dismissed with the wave of a wand, but love can decrease the pain and get us through and He met my pain is so many different ways) and 2) how Ev has made it through so much physical and emotional pain and is just now realizing my kisses hold no magic...how did that happen?

This speaks to the power of love. And how the lack of love in ones life is the most tragic story.

I'm not sure Ev understood my reply to him, but he seemed to accept it and maybe in his subconscious realizes it did help him through. 

A sad day

Last clinic visit was a sad one. No cancer patient likes their clinic visits, but some are easier than others. This one can be labeled as sad.

There have been a handful of times that we have gone in and Ev sits in his stroller as if he is daydreaming or about to fall asleep. These days are usually the ones that he has to go in without having had breakfast...and only allowed clear liquids three hours before the procedure (spinal tap), which usually turns into four. So, when he did the same thing on our latest visit I didn't think too much of it. But, then he told me he was sad.

Within the last month or so Ev has had a realization of what is going on and what this "sickness" means. He has asked me a few times when he can have blueberries again and I have told him when the sickness is gone and that we are half way there. To which he commonly replied, ok. And then proceeded to play. But, he's realizing perhaps that halfway done might be longer than he hoped.

Ev has always just put up with his treatment. He'd take whatever hit he had to take wether on his own or with us by his side and then move on. It appears that time has come to an end.

So while we were at clinic he looked at me for reassurance and certainty. And, we all get it. Why does he have to have cancer? Why does cancer hurt? Why do I have to skip breakfast and come to a hospital for pokes when I feel fine?

He fought more over getting accessed too, verbally and physically. I told him none of us want him to get poked (I know I would take all the pokes for him), but we have to get the sickness out of his body. I listed family members who didn't want him to be in pain and he began to cry. At the time, I felt like he got it, but he might have just realized his certain doom of pokes ahead.

He was sad for most of that day. I was sad for most of that day too.

Ev will now tell me that he doesn't want to be sick anymore, and that he wants to do what brother does. And so begins another challenge in our battle against cancer. In the midst of our battle the baby is becoming a boy.