Our Bizarre Reality

I tell you what- sometimes I feel like our life is just a little surreal. Rylee had an appointment today & I just started thinking about how funny everything is- this whole experience is bizarre sometimes.

Here's a little taste of what I mean. We walk into the Oncologist office, Rylee waves hi to the ladies at the front desk, they all ooh and ahh over her, know her by name, etc. Typical. Then we proceed to the waiting area where Rylee sits amongst all the other patients, mostly elderly. I think to myself- "she's really experiencing such an adult world/issue." Rylee walks over to the magazine basket- carefully chooses herself a magazine (does this every week), wiggles her way up onto the couch, doesn't even come close to touching the floor, but sits quietly, browsing through her Coping with Cancer magazine. (I've got to get a picture of this because it cracks me up every time.)

Then the nurse calls us back. Rylee knows the whole routine. Stands on the scale independently, sits up to the chair, pulls up her pant leg for them to take her blood pressure, puts out her finger so they can check oxygen levels. Then we go back to see the Dr. She sits patiently as he listens to her lungs, gives her an exam, etc. I think to myself what a blessing her temperment and cooperation is. I can only imagine the nightmare it would be to go through this with certain children. Rylee is not resistent- to treatment, medication, having her blood taken-anything. She's very agreeable & helpful, not to mention brave!

We go back to the treatment room. She pulls her shirt right up for the nurse to take her blood or hook her line up to the chemo, etc. We get many sympathetic remarks or looks either because of how young Rylee is or because I'm pregnant and going through this. I give them a confirmed smile & nod- knowing what they mean. We get even more curious looks- everyone wondering if I, the pregnant lady, is the one with cancer or her, the baby? Who's with who is what you can tell people are asking themselves- both of us seem a little unsuspecting. Talk about the odd couple! We all exchange small talk- talking very candidly about cancer related lingo: hair loss, treatment, diagnosis, ports & central lines, discuss how we found out, life expectancy, etc.
One of the nurses and another patient comment/discuss how "cute" Rylee's chemo IV bag is (because it's so small comparible to adult sizes). "Sure, as cute as a bag full of chemo can be," I think to myself- laughing inside. The juice pumps through Rylee's body, she sips her apple juice, eats her crackers, plays with her dolls or colors or looks at a book or whatever. Then she's all done for now, we call it a day. Until next time.

Just another bizarre day in the life of a nearly 2 year old child with leukemia. Bizarre! That's all I can say.