March 8, 2017     (Sara) 

Until recently, I had no idea that I could gravitate to the negative very easily. I don’t think it’s years on this Earth. I don’t think it’s jadedness. I don’t think it’s even the fact my kid was diagnosed with cancer one year ago. I think there might be times when my naturally honed optimism just needs a vacation. I’m always the first to smile. The first to see the positive. To laugh. I thrive on laughter as much as I do energy from food, nourishment from water, or vitamin D from the sun. I have a strong affinity to the wonderful and convivial parts of life and this world. Some of it comes from deep within my soul while a good part of it from my family. I was raised in a home where the echoes of memories are that of giggles that turned to tears of joy and gasps for air between bellows.

It’s not surprising that my optimism has come to something that resembles a strike. It feels taken advantage of. I have leaned on my optimism continuously for my entire life not really giving it the appreciation it deserves. My optimism has a face of a dragon but it is tired of holding me up. Its tired of keeping me going. Of keeping me strong and calm. My optimism appears to be weak… at least at this point and I shall just accept it for now. I have full faith that these last several months of my consistent reliance of my optimism have depleted it. Over the last few weeks I have attempted to pull my positivity from the darkness but I believe it needs a real rest. I need to give it some time to regain its strength and return to me with full force. I will respect that. And it will return.

Today we had labs. And while the numbers came back in a more positive range, I felt numb. The doctor said “do a happy dance” and I felt “meh”. Scott has a wonderful outlook on the numbers and when he asked me what my thoughts are…they were not positive. I am realistic that an ANC of 1550 is likely ideal at this point. We are due for chemo in one week and if she were to be 900 today she might be too low to give chemo next week. I get it. I’m just not super stoked. I’m not on the high that I would have thought I would be. We are on the right path. We are getting there. I just wish it didn’t have to take so long. 1550…that is 50 units above the range that keeps her prognosis as good as can be expected. 50 units to the best possible outcome. 50 units to the sweet spot…and some respite to my anxiety about relapse.

I am a strong believer in the Law of Attraction and while I consciously push any negative thoughts from my brain…I feel like I can’t keep up. Considering relapse is as threatening to me as pondering Space or the vast unknown. The unknown scares the crap out of me. And I’d rather not really think about it. But then it always pops up. Usually I’m protected by my optimism. I imagine my optimism looks something like Joy from Inside Out….but with pink hair. No green. Yeah green hair and bright blue eyes. And pink skin. But my optimism usually saves me from fear. I can always talk myself out of feeling bad. Unless my optimism is on a vacation. Then I need to go on vacation too.

Motherly assessment: ANC 1550 (oh child…could you not have made it to 1400?!?). The range we desire is 750-1500. That is when the risk of relapse is lowest. I don’t have the other numbers aside from knowing her platelets are good, her hemoglobin is good. At the point of communication with Dr. Zucker, her CMP (metabolic panel) wasn’t available yet but since I didn’t hear back, I’m assuming her liver function is good too. She is pooping like a champ. My mom recommended CALM – its a magnesium supplement and I think helps a lot. Though since we changed other things at the same time, its hard to know what is helping…but we’ll take it nonetheless.

Her energy. A+

I have told people…I can handle anything as long as she is feeling good. And she is. She wants to play, run, jump, ride bikes, go outside in the freezing blizzard, dance, do yoga, and breathe fire. This child of mine is good. She is SO GOOD.

Lincoln is also so good. He makes jokes and keeps us laughing like I could have never expected.

In case anyone is interested in Pelei…the great Poof. She’s also great. 12 ½ years old and still dreaming of playing ball and swimming in Tahoe.

We are all good. Optimism or not, we are good. Maya the dragon is fighting a hard fight and making it look easy. We are making friends and helping each other get through this. My optimism will return soon…I know it will…It has been a year and just needs to pull over for a break while running this incredibly long, hard, intense, marathon.

Thank you all. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Love is Life