We are well into your third week for you second round of treatment. We are just waiting for your numbers to climb back up so we can go home. You have been in isolation for ten days now thanks to parainfluenza. More importantly, you were able to fight the virus well enough to avoid any serious respiratory issues while your immune system was weakened. For that, I am especially thankful!
You had a virtual chat with Santa last week on an iPad! Basically it was you shouting “Tannn-ta” and “Ho-Ho-Ho” and laughing hysterically at the questions he was asking you. It was probably one of the best memories that I have of you here in the hospital. The sheer joy beaming from your little body as you watched Santa in complete amazement was positively overwhelming, and I soaked up every last bit of it.
Overall, this stay has been good to you…even through the isolation. Isolation has forced us to be together in your room all day and night; and as fun as that has been and everything, it has also been a true test of my patience. In case you were wondering, I still have a lot of clean up to do in that aisle. But on the bright side, look at you leaping through development…
Self feeding! Whoop! Do you want ranch dressing on everything? Sure, but I have learned to pick my battles. Therefore, I think it is fair to say that we both did a little victory dance that night.
There you go crushing the rim again. We raised the hoop up yesterday, Miss Basketball, so now you have to work on a jump shot.
When your days are full and you have fully exerted all of your energy in play, you let me rock you to sleep. To be perfectly honest with you, it is my most favorite time of the day. Not because you are finally asleep, but because you are all mine. No one is telling me to put you in bed. I am not rushing back to work. I am rocking my first born while lullabies close your eyes for as long as I like. Just like when you were brand new, you wrap your fingers around mine and I watch you sleep.
Last week your preliminary cytogenics report appeared as though the Myelodysplastic Syndrome was gone from your bone marrow. The doctors ran an additional test to be sure. This morning, we learned that you are in fact 100% free of MDS! No more Myelodysplastic Syndrome! Tears can’t describe the feeling that came over me! But I rushed to call your dad, and he felt the exact the same way.
Initially we were told a transplant would be the only way to correct your bone marrow, but you did it! And I could care less if I ever get another Christmas present in my life, because (outside of being cancer free) this is the best one yet! It won’t be long and we will be celebrating your victory over leukemia! I know it. Every minute I hold you near me, I promise you more and more that I will help you beat this. We will get you out of here cancer free some day.
You are capable of so many great things, dear. Never, ever forget that! Got it?
I cannot wait to take you home for Christmas!