Relay for Life

With every year that passes I find myself realizing how difficult life really is. Because I had a wonderful childhood, I grew up under the impression that adults knew all of the answers, they always did the right things, and life was good- and fun- and happy. I have you all smirking at my naivety, now though, don’t I? Because the hard, cold truth is, now I'm the adult, and I don't know anything! Adults don’t have all the answers, and sometimes we actually need our kids to help us through the difficult things.

I have a vivid memory of a Monday morning years ago, when as the teacher I had to walk into my classroom full of high school seniors, and discuss the death of their two classmates who were killed over the weekend, one of whom should have been in my classroom. I took a deep breath at the door, tried to gain my composure, and walked in to 29 tearful, grieving students. I was immediately at a loss for words as I stood in front of them, and my tears started falling again. The only dialogue I managed was, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to be the adult today.” They rose from their seats and engulfed me, and we all embraced and cried together.

That experience tenderly reminds me that although we try so hard to appear to have all of the answers, sometimes we just don’t, and allowing others to see our tears isn’t always a bad thing.

At 7 AM yesterday, we lovingly whispered, “It’s time to wake up,” in Jace’s ear. It was a “chemo” day, and a big one. In addition to his regular IV chemo, he would also receive general anesthesia for a Lumbar Puncture. Our nurse Linda pegged my feelings exactly when she said, “I bet it’s hard for you to bring Jace back to treatments after he’s been feeling so well.” Yep, that’s right. I hate it. It makes me want to swear, and I don’t even cuss. In fact, it puts me on the edge of bitter again…despite my efforts to NOT go there.

Also, after his CBC, we also realized Jace’s numbers were lower than they should be right now. WHAT is THAT about? When I say numbers, I mean, his ANC, HCT, and HGB. Although our next scheduled appointment was at the end of July, Jace will return for another CBC next week to see what’s going on. Like a trooper though, Jace diligently made it through the day of chemo. Last night I was taking inventory to make sure I had given him all of the right meds at the right times, and my heart ached for his little 63 lb. body. I counted pills: 1 ½ 6MP, 8 steroid pills at .75 mg each, and his usual 1 ½ Septra pills on Tuesdays. In addition to that he had chemo in his spinal fluid, and chemo in his port.

(Waiting for the Lumbar Puncture)

(Watching them take Jace away)

(Trying to wake up in recovery)

After an emotional day Jace said to me, “What’s the matter?”

I replied, “Why do you say that, honey? Nothing’s wrong. I’m ok.”

He said, “You have your ‘matter’ face.” I finally smiled for real. He’s so cute.

We have a team walking in our local Relay for Life this Friday, June 25th, and our Rexburg Jamba Juice is sponsoring us for our fundraiser. They are actually donating 20% of any purchase to Relay for Life if you take in our flyer that says, “Jamba and Jace” for the cure. If you need a flyer, we have some sitting at the Madison Ridge Chiropractic Center, Teton Oncology, and the Madison Surgical Center. Also, we’ll be passing them out all week at the Madison Baseball Tournament. If you can't get a flyer, you can actually just order Jace's favorite Jamba and they will donate 20% of that purchase to Relay for Life. We appreciate Jamba's generosity so much!

Please come to the Relay for Life if you live in Rexburg. It is at the MHS football field and it starts with "survivors" making a lap at 6 PM. Of course we are relatively new to the cancer world, but I've heard this is a pretty amazing experience.

As I’ve prepared for this Relay, I realized the reality is, LIFE IS one big giant Relay. When one of us gets tired or overwhelmed, it’s ok for someone else to help us and take over for a bit-  lift our spirits, give us the energy we need to carry on, and send us on our way. I am SO grateful for the people in our lives, who fill our buckets and support Jace in his OWN Relay for Life. Although as the adult, I don't have all the answers, I do know that some pretty amazing people help me every day, and I'm so grateful they are on my "team."

Bruises

When Hayden was a toddler, I was afraid people would think we abused him because he was always covered in BRUISES. His full-speed ahead attitude often left him bumped and battered, but he never cared. He just loved “going big.” Hayden also taught Jace to follow the same path of aggressive behavior. They’ve been indoctrinated by their father, their grandfathers, and their uncles that if they weren’t diving after the ball, they weren’t playing. So, as warped as it is, bruises give a sense of pride in our house… “Look at this one!” they’ll say, and then retell how they got it. “Man this one is huge!” and then explain the events leading to it. They both have pretty good stories too. From double broken arms to emergency room visits, we’ve seen our share of “boys being boys.”

You can imagine how difficult it has been then, to watch over the last nine months-- Jace’s pale skin grow baby soft with no evidence of rough play. Don’t get me wrong! As his mom I have loved his smooth legs and soft hands, and I have enjoyed our days of cuddling and book reading, but today I do have terrific news. After nine months of flawless, silky skin, I am happy to report- Jace has been playing hard enough to have a few bruises.

Since his last IV chemo, Jace has been going full-speed not even letting nausea get in his way. He managed an entire day at Lagoon without being carried or pushed, and he loved a weekend at the sand dunes riding four-wheelers and jumping over the edge of the sand hills seeing how far he could go. As people have asked how he’s been doing the last two weeks, my consistent answer has been, “So great.”

This isn’t to say he doesn’t have his difficult moments. Both Hayden and Jace taught me valuable lessons Friday as we were preparing to leave for baseball games. After receiving a heavy dose of oral meds on Thursday, Jace was feeling nauseated and slow going. He complained he felt sick (very normal every day), and I coaxed him to get up and get dressed. He did, and on his way out the door he said, “Mom, will you get the bowl?” This is also a daily request. In my haste, I forgot the bowl but remembered the cooler and umbrella. As I entered the garage, it was immediately obvious that Jace did actually need the bowl. Hayden ran for it, and returned to a very sick little brother. After a few minutes of me holding Jace from behind, his body violently rejecting the one drink of water he took that morning, Hayden looked at me with such sad eyes. He shook his head with complete disgust that Jace has to endure this and offered his own hands to his little best friend- “You ok, bud?” he whispered…and of course Jace’s answer was, “Yes.”

The two boys climbed into the vehicle without thinking, as I assessed the situation for a minute. In my adult brain I clicked over to the idea that Jace wouldn’t feel like going to his baseball game. I prematurely started thinking about where my phone was…call Matt… make arrangements for Hayden a ride... but I think Jace could read my mind. “Mom! I’m ok,” he said. “I want to go.”

So we did. In the tournament, our little men played a total of four games each. Hayden’s team went 4-0, and Hayd hit three over-the-fence homeruns! Go Hayd!  Jace’s team went 0-4, and he had the time of his life. He got a few good hits, he struck-out once, he walked once, and he stole a few bases.

Last night Jace proudly revealed a whopping black and blue bruise on his shin. He knew exactly when he received it in the game, but he explained how he successfully tried really hard not to cry. I softly reminded him that it would be ok if he ever needed to cry. He looked at me in disgust and said, “Mom? Over a bruise? Come on!”