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Becoming a Cancer Mom: Part 2

Day 2 of Our Journey

By Jessica PhillipsPublished 6 years ago 6 min read
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Hospitals. They are terrifying. Do we even enjoy being in there when we give birth? Sure, you get waited on, hand and foot. But does that beat the awkwardness? The opposite sex seeing your nether regions is always uncomfortable in the hospital or doctor's office. People you only know for a day or so pretty much know everything about you! Yet, you can barely remember their name with out looking at the name tag hanging on their shirt!

Imagine being four years old, stuck in a children's cancer hospital. Even though you don’t really know everything going on or how severe things are. You just know that everyone around you is crying and saying sorry. Yeah. Scary to even think about.

Second day in the hospital. Though, we had a pretty good idea it was Wilms Tumor, there was still hope it wasn’t. But if not that, it could have been something way worse. We didn’t want to think about that. For those that don’t know, Wilms Tumor is children’s kidney cancer usually developed between the ages of one to four. It has a very high success rate. Most usually, the kidney comes out. In some cases, they have to stay in until the treatment has shrunk the tumor enough in order to get it out. In other cases, a whole kidney and part of the other has to come out. In a lot of cases, just one kidney and the tumor come out. Wilms is one of the lesser developed children’s cancers, and not as widely known.

We were already told this day was going to be full of test and procedures; people we knew and didn’t know coming in and out.

March 14th, 2017 was the date, and not one I will likely forget. This mom and dad were running on little to no sleep. Little one still not knowing what was going on, because we didn’t know how to tell him. Phones ringing off the hook with Facebook blowing up, and text messages off the wall. How could we hold back tears from our little man?! It was nearly impossible.

Being told B (I will protect his identity and just call him B), could not eat until after every test was done, my husband and I decided to fast with him. First things first, full abdominal ultrasound. Ok. I can handle this. But it never fails. A mom has to do more than one job at once. Right in the middle, J’s (my youngest son), dentist calls. I explain to the receptionist what was going on and how I couldn’t talk. But she needed information in order for the babysitter to be able to bring him to the dentist to repair a broken tooth he had broke two weeks before. Does the stress ever end?!

Phone conversation over. I re-enter the ultrasound room stressed to the max. B just laying there watching television. As I try and talk to him.

“You know, mommy had one of these when you and J were in my belly?!”

“Really? Did they see us in there? I came first right?”

“Yes baby.” Oh boy. Here come the tears.

Ultrasound over. But that took longer than expected. So back to the room to wait. Wait?! My child is hungry! After speaking with the nurse, CT is full and we will have to go before surgery in the morning.

Surgery. I've had two surgeries ever in my life. My husband had quite a few. But our four year old baby. Too much to think about. So, we color. We color and try to act normal. Normal? What’s that? I don’t even know at this point. How in the world will we ever be able to be normal again?!

So here comes our oncologist that we had met the night before. He had a look at B’s ultrasound and wants to discuss it. I had mixed emotions about this meeting. I want to know, but I don’t, it’s too hard to hear.

Wait. The results weren’t the first thing the doctor comes in to talk about. But instead. He sits on the floor and plays cars with B! Really?! How have we gotten so lucky to find someone who actually cares with many other patients on his plate. Maybe this is good.

“We believe it to be Wilms Tumor. Of course, we won’t know for sure until we take it out and test it. But. It’s very large. I don’t see how it’s stayed hidden so long. It was the size of a football! The kidney will have to be removed as well.”

He told us the dimensions, but all I heard was that it was the size of a football. A football?! How did that fit inside my baby boy. And now one less kidney?! I mean, I know people can survive with only one kidney but our lives have got to change. A kidney removal!?

“What we will do is, a 20-week program of chemotherapeutic treatment.”

Chemo. Chemo. It’s okay. I’ve got this. I can do this. Chemo. Ok. No I don’t. More tears.

“Thank you.” My husband stands to shake his hand and I the same. As he exits. I cry. Next comes the surgeon. Oh yeah. And a handful of guest. Guest. I’m so tired of people at this point. But it puts a smile on my baby’s face. So that’s ok.

My husband and I speak with the surgeon. He tells us it will be a simple procedure. But he will not biopsy the tumor until it’s out. For fear of it spreading. Ok. I’m ok with that. He seems to have B’s best interest at heart here. The surgeon was very nice. He told us exactly what he was going to do and that he would be the one to put in the central line for chemo therapy.

This is still kind of early in the afternoon. At 6 AM the next morning we will be going for test. And then surgery. What is in store for us here? Chemo, one less kidney, surgery, hospitals. Is this going to be our new normal?

I try to stay busy finding things to do. Granted, hospitals have cleaning staffs, I cleaned, did our laundry. Anything to get my mind of the next day. Not to mention my birthday was in two days. What a way to celebrate. Your child having surgery to remove a large tumor AND a kidney.

The rest of the day was pretty quiet. Nurses. Doctors. Visitors. Phone calls. What you would expect. But when everyone left. I turned to Dr. Google. BIG mistake.

Mamas. Let me tell you, DON’T do that. Google doesn’t bring up good stories first. While Wilms Tumor has a very high success rate, google only knows about the fatalities of this disease. Not good. Stay away. You will be in for one sleepless night of tears and worries. Don’t do it.

My husband wanted to sleep in the hospital bed that night with our boy. I was fine with that. He shows his emotions differently. This was his way. We were scared. Not knowing. And I wasn’t being no help. So I sat in that hospital chair and awaited 6 AM.

Stay tuned for surgery day!

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