The Sobering Reality

Do you know when the reality set in for me that our lives were about to change in a massive way? It was the day that the pharmacist at Walgreens set Brooklyn's medication in front of me. I'm certain I looked completely stunned as the woman went over every single bottle's purpose and dosage. I stood wide eyed as she instructed me to shake this one really well, or to give that one on a full stomach. Refrigerate, dissolve in liquid, give this before bed, give that as needed. This was of course after days of watching my kid get poked and prodded and sedated and tested for everything under the sun. I had been emotionally drained, sleep deprived, and shaken to my core by her eventual diagnosis and at that very moment I felt like throwing up. Suddenly Brooklyn required a variety of different medications to keep her alive and her father and I were solely responsible for making sure she received all but one.

Her first five weeks looked like this-

Brooklyn takes steroids twice a day, every day. The steroids are very harsh on her stomach so along with that she also needs an antacid. Once a day she takes an anti-fungal and a laxative.  On Saturday and Sunday she receives an antibiotic four times. Every Friday she receives a shot of Vincristine, her chemotherapy, at the clinic. Once daily I'm required to flush her PICC line with saline and then heparin to ensure that it doesn't attempt to clot and at the beginning of weeks 1,2 and 5 she has chemo injected into her spine. This her life. Every day, for 29 days.

Now, this is an intimidating schedule to anyone. However, I will say that after a week of successfully NOT overdosing my kid, we both settled in and now it has just become routine for us. Brooklyn was fairly resistant at first, especially when we were still in the hospital, but as of late she's been taking her meds with little incident.

When the nurse first set that calendar in front of me, I almost laughed at her. I mean, look at it! It is clearly a caricature of itself. Like something you'd see in an SNL sketch. But believe me, that calendar is very real, and its taken on an entirely new purpose now because at this point I know the medications, dosages and times by heart.  For me that calendar now represents progress. Every day that I get to X out is one day less in Brooklyn's treatment and one day closer to her being cured for good. I can not tell you how eager I am for the day when our lives do not revolve around that stupid calendar, but for now it serves as a visual reminder for how far we have come and how much further we have left to go.