Wednesday, November 8, 2017

11-8-17 Things We've Learned Thus Far

So, yesterday we had a consultation with the team of doctors at Children's Hospital in the hematology/oncology department. We are on track with our testing. They scheduled a biopsy for this morning first thing, so Elise and I loaded up and headed to the hospital.

We will have results in 3-5 business days. I promise I'll keep you posted when I know. Until then, no news is good news.

Here is a list of Things We've Learned Thus Far:


Children's "color tunnel"  
1.) Information Overload is a Real Thing  
Elise has never had surgery before; the learning curve for that is vast. We must have had the same things explained to us 27 times over. They really want to make sure you know what's happening. And since they deal with really young kids a lot, they still speak like it's kindergarten. The third time someone gave us the driving directions and parking directions I could say them verbatim. (Since I am the most directionally challenged person I know, that's like a Festivus Miracle.)

2.) Children's has Awesome Decor
B'ham has this cool place called the Color Tunnel where you drive through this tunnel of LED lights. It's a great place for a photo op.  We've gone up there for snacks and photos several times on Fun Bus outings. So, naturally, we stopped for a photo shoot in the Children's Color Tunnel.

"Fancy pants surgery shorts"
3.) We Have to be the Most Inappropriate People Alive
The photo shoot continued with modeling the "fancy pants" underwear shorts they gave E to wear during surgery. She asked the nurse if her scar was going to make her look more like a pirate or like Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible.  She wanted to know if she got to take the paper fancy pants shorts home. I wanted to know what songs were going to be played during her surgery for the doctors and nurses to operate by, because the wrong songs could influence the entire rotation of the planets. Speaking of music...

4.) Elise Has the Worst Taste in Music. Ever. Really.
"I'm a model." 
She sang from our "surgery support playlist" including "Broken Wings," some Donnie Osmond, songs from the musical Hairspray, Josh Groban,  and Barry Manilow.  Not kidding. Elise has the worst musical taste of any person I know. Maybe that I have ever known. It's startling. But she knows all the words and commits 100%, so I'm still proud. Disturbed, but proud.

https://www.facebook.com/themotherbear/videos/10213564470340409/?l=1231342932403428969

5.) Don't Drunk Text or Dial after Surgery
She called her scar "bitchin". To her classmates. On Facetime. Yup. I snatched that phone up and said, "Elise has to go now. Goodbye! Goodbye!"

6.) Lillian Can Text
Our 13-yr-old texted me for the first time ever in the history of Lilly. She asked how Elise was doing and told me to "keep me in the loop since you tell Elaina stuff but I don't have her in my classes so...". I didn't know the kid could text. It's never happened before. And she showed concern for Elise, which was like another top ten surprise. (And she's working on a gangster/warrior avatar for Elise...stay tuned.)

7.) Everyone Loves Elise
After surgery--like a boss.
The nurses, the anesthesiologists (who Elise--while under the influence--called 'hot' about seven times audibly while he was in the room), the surgeon--every single one of the people she spoke to today adores her from head to toe. Her spirit, her attitude, her humor--she had everyone rolling. The surgeon said, and this is a quote, "I wish all of my patients were this optimistic and bright, shiny people. You are completely blessed to have her as a daughter. I sincerely believe that you are going to be fine based on your attitude alone." I told the surgeon I just thought Elise was too mean to die. (See inappropriate people)

https://www.facebook.com/themotherbear/videos/10213564470100403/?l=6232150327585476412

8.) We Aren't the Only Ones Asking Stupid Questions
Elise told a friend they were taking out her lymph node to send off for tests and the kid asked, "Will they put it back when they finish?"  Another one said, "Does this mean you have lung cancer? But you don't smoke."  And still one more, "Well, some people don't die from cancer, so that's good."
(Encouragement isn't everyone's spiritual gift.)

9.) Cancer
Our home has been touched by cancer through my Mother's journey. I'm not ignorant about the disease or sheltered from its impact. However, I can say this definitively: there is nothing like sitting in a waiting room with your child, agonizing over what might be, what could be, what will be, watching 15 other families and their very sick children who are there for treatments, tests, surgeries, knowing that everyone in that room, clinic, floor, hospital, city block will never, ever be the same after walking that path. It's emotionally exhausting. But families all over Birmingham, all over the U.S., and all over the world are struggling with the same (or their version). My empathy for these people has never been higher. I can assure you that my prayer life and my tangible support for families with sick children will change as a result of what has already happened.

10.) When There is Nothing Left but Hope and Faith
That's when you know you either trust Him or you don't. It's funny, but I am not a worrier by nature. I do agonize over the things I am responsible for and can have an impact on--like my teaching or scheduling or my home life. But things I can't change? I don't usually spend a second worrying about weather or jobs or anything outside of my sphere of influence. So, I'm trying to approach this the same way. It's just another thing that we are going to give God all the glory for in our lives, because there is literally nothing we can do. It's out of our hands. It's going to be added to a very long, rich, beautiful list of things that were hard and God intended for our good.

So, until we know, that's all we know.

Love,
Charlotte
& the Fun Bus

No comments: