Monday we drove to Primary Children's Hospital for
our last scheduled visit there. Jace still has a November chemo in Rexburg,
but we won't go to PCMC again. Laura asked if our trip was bittersweet.
After considering the question carefully, I replied, "Yes, but mostly
SWEET."
The minuscule sliver of bitter came in the form of seeing Jace's
esteemed doctor for the last time. Dr. Barnette has been our hero at PCMC from
the very beginning. The first time he walked into Jace's hospital room back in
September 2009, Dr. Barnette's energy was palpable. He was absolutely the
bright spot in our days there, and we will sincerely miss him.
As Jace rang the symbolic bell on his way out of the oncology clinic door, Dr.
Barnette urged him to ring it harder. “Oh… keep going!” he suggested… so Jace
really let the bell sound. We all
cheered, and as I turned to tell the doc goodbye, he was gone. It must be difficult to save a life, and then
tell the kid goodbye, knowing you may never see him again. It doesn’t feel like
it’s enough to say, but thank you, Dr. Barnette. We'll never forget you.
As I followed the boys out of the hospital with the camera, I felt my
own real smile. We snapped a few photos, and said goodbye to a few favorite
places…the fish…the horse…
Then, as I prepared my camera for a shot by the wishing ponds, I found
myself passing a tired mom carrying a bald child. I knew with my trained eyes
she was comforting her cancer babe…and their faces looked worn out and sad. I found
myself thinking, that was us. Three years ago we were carrying our cancer babe… and look where we
are now. I wanted to tell her it gets easier, but I knew she was in good hands-- on her way to the 4th floor.
I’ll readily admit I’m not very wise, but I’ve learned many lessons over
the last three years. I look at Jace every day with SO much gratitude. I’m grateful
for the blessing of being a mother to him and Hayden, and I’m grateful for the bittersweet
opportunities to carry Jace. Yesterday I could tell his feet
and legs were hurting. We were grabbing a few things at the store, and I
offered for him to ride in the cart. He
looked at me dryly. “Or I could carry
you…” I coaxed.
He just kept walking, shaking his head.
“Mothers…” he muttered.
We’re a little bitter, but mostly SWEET,
right??:)
ONE more chemo treatment in Rexburg in November.
ONE.:)
We can do it.
Love you all.
