Perspective

I get on the elevator on the first floor with a bunch of other people.  There are doctors, nurses, other parents, visitors etc.  The elevator stops at random floors as we ascend and one by one they exit.  By the time I arrive at my destination, they are all gone. The bell dings. The computer voice says "floor 9." The doors glide open. I step out onto the hematology / oncology floor alone and a little piece of my heart breaks.

Before we got this diagnosis, I said that every time we ended up at Childrens hopsital that along with the great care we received we also got a healthy dose of perspective. We would see kids and families in far worse situations and we would feel grateful for all that we had.

I'll be completely honest and tell you that when your kid has cancer it's a lot harder to find that perspective.  Aidan is now one of the patients that we felt sorry for on our previous visits.  He's the little bald kid pushing around a big IV pole in the cafeteria. He's now the patient who helps the parents of the kid who is in for an appendectomy realize just how fortunate they really are.

It's not entirely impossible for us to gain perspective though and on the good days I feel like we still have it in spades.

We met a family here whose 9 moth old, Nolan, awaits a heart transplant. Yesterday he underwent open heart surgery to have an artificial heart installed while the transplant team continues to look for an acceptable donor heart. There are kids on our floor who are younger than Aidan and have already endured several surgeries to resect their tumors.  Many patients on this floor have to have bone marrow transplants. One of the patients on our floor is a small baby who can't be more than a year old. I met a mom in the unit pantry whose daughter had relapsed after being in remission for over a year.  Today in the elevator Jamie met an Amish lady who tearfully told her that her grandson has just passed away.

Yes, Aidan has cancer and no, there are no guarantees, but it is treatable. His particular disease has a pretty good cure rate and we found the cancer before it had metastasized.  We've been through one full round of chemotherapy and he's tolerating it really well aside from a few minor side effects.  When we've been in the hospital the biggest issue we have had to deal with is Aidan getting homesick and sad.

I still never would want anyone to have to go through what we currently are, but things could definitely be worse.  On the good days we see this clearly and our hearts go out to those families whose burden is more than we could possibly imagine.  On the bad days, it's hard to find that perspective.  It's hard to do much of anything except cry, but RIGHT NOW I know that in spite of everything we are still very fortunate to have these wonderful boys, an amazing support network of family and friends, and an amazing team of medical professionals working hard to get Aidan better.