On Coming Home to My Belonging
In January of 2015 my otherwise healthy seven year-old daughter was diagnosed with cancer.
I wrote this post for the nonprofit Blueprints of Hope.
Life in small-town Durango is just a titch idyllic, with it’s quiet neighborhoods, numerous bike paths, unpolluted night skies, very little traffic, and easy access to hiking trails.
This is the first thing the kids did when we arrived home. Chloe could finally get her chest wet, with her Broviak removed.
Playing at Brent’s Place.
Hi Everyone,
As of yesterday, Chloe’s counts are on the rise. Her white cell counts are expected to recover more slowly this time, and that is indeed what is happening.
On Saturday I was finally well enough to go visit Chloe. I wore a mask, so as not to expose her, just in case I was still contagious. We had so much fun. We cracked each other up playing Connect Four and taking selfies.
My sweet little desk nook at Brent’s Place.
Today is Thursday, and I haven’t seen Chloe since Saturday. It turns out that I’ve got the flu. It has been an exceedingly miserable week for me.
Chloe continues to do very well. Craig and I, however, are simultaneously struggling with our own health issues.
Chloe read jokes to Jordan, moments before their departure.
Chloe and I are alone again. Craig and Jordan left just over an hour ago.
Chloe fainted today. It happened late this afternoon. Craig was with her all morning, and told me that she was a bit low energy today, and that her stomach was not feeling well.
