Sunday, May 18, 2014

A Prayer for My Son






Dear Lord,
You know my son so much better than I do. You know his sickness and the burden he carries. You also know his heart. Lord, I ask you to be with my son now. 
Lord, let your will be done in my son’s life. Lord, I pray for my son just as your Word tells me to pray, for healing. I believe you hear this earnest prayer from my heart and that it is powerful because of your promise. 
I have faith in you, Lord, to heal my son, but I also trust in the plan you have for his life. Lord, I don't always understand your ways. I don't know why my son has and had to suffer, but I trust you. I ask that you look with mercy and grace toward my son. Nourish his spirit and soul in this time of suffering and comfort him with your presence; and let the angels sing to him softly. Let my son know you are there with him through this difficulty. Give him strength. As may you, through this difficulty. I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ Amen

Monday, May 12, 2014

The Mother of a sick child...

“Motherhood is the hardest job you’ll ever love.”
I’m not sure who first coined that phrase, but its truth becomes clearer to me everyday. And nowhere is that truth more evident than in mothers of children with a serious illness.
Throughout my years of working at this hospital, I’ve had the privilege of knowing dozens of moms who find themselves within these walls fighting for the lives and wellbeing of their beloved children. We look at them and say things like, “I could never do what you do,” and “I don’t know how you manage it all.”
But the truth is, they don’t know how they manage to keep it together, either; it’s just that they don’t have a choice. They fight because their children need them to fight. They keep going because if they don’t, who will? They learn to put their own needs and wants aside because they value the life of their child much more than their own.
When children come face to face with the Goliaths of disease — cancer, heart defects, cystic fibrosis, brain injuries and many more — it’s their mothers who gather the stones that this small child will use to fight the fearsome foe. We often revere the doctors who take care of these little ones, and it’s true, they are heroes. They make the stones so that we have weapons with which to go into battle. But often, there is a forgotten hero: the mother who gathers each and every stone, places it into tiny hands, and stands by while her baby takes his best shot.
Mothers who take care of children with serious diseases don’t have the same luxuries that the rest of us have. Every parent carries the nagging fears: What if something happens to my child? Will I be able to give my child all the things they need to help them live a happy, healthy life? How can I help them realize their full potential? And perhaps it all comes back to this question: Am I enough? Am I enough to give my child what she needs?
But, for mothers whose children are healthy, we can put those fears on the back burner. We don’t often have to look that scary monster in the eye and face the reality. We can hide our heads under the covers and pretend that as long as we can’t see the monster, he can’t come and get us. For mothers who are battling a child’s illness, that’s a luxury they cannot afford.
They are forced to face the monster head on, and their monsters look like this:
  • Explaining to a child why they must face yet another surgery that will bring  incredible pain.
  • Holding frail little hands as they vomit and lose their hair and cry from the pain and frustration of chemo and explaining why the medicine seems so much worse than the disease.
  • Navigating the fine line between protecting the health of your medically fragile child and allowing them freedom to experience the joys of childhood.
  • Grieving the loss of the child you envisioned yours would be and coming to accept the reality of the one you have.
  • Cradling your baby in your arms as his worn-out body takes in his last breath.
  • Managing the guilt that you carry for so much of your time and energy being focused on your sick child, knowing that your well children need you, too.
  • Talking to your child about the reality of death, knowing that you would trade places with them in a second if you could. But instead, you’re faced with the heart-wrenching task of letting them go on before you.
These are just some of the burdens that the mothers of sick children carry. They carry them around every single day, and the weight is heavier than you and I can possibly know. What is astonishing, though, about this thing called motherhood is that somehow, someway there is still incredible joy. Their pain is deep, but their joy runs deep, too.
They are faced with the harsh, unfair realities so they’ve been forced to clarify what is truly important to them. They know that the most precious parts of their lives may not be around forever, so they’ll appreciate every moment. Their child’s illness has given them a higher calling, a purpose in life that is beyond any desire they’ve ever had. They know exactly what they’re fighting for.
For the rest of us who look at these mothers and think, “I don’t know how she does it,” know this: It’s not their abilities that are superhuman, it’s their love. It is this intense love for their child that pushes them out of bed every morning and forces them to keep going, no matter what odds are stacked against them.
On this Mother’s Day, look around at the mothers who are fighting for the lives and well-being of their children. Let them know you recognize that you can’t possibly understand what it’s like to walk in their shoes, but you know enough to appreciate every single step they take. Share in their hopes, their joys, their triumphs and their disappointments. Listen and learn: Their hard-won wisdom will take you far.
But most of all, love them. Love them well because they have loved others well.

http://www.kevinmd.com/blog/2014/05/remember-mothers-sick-children.html

Sunday, May 11, 2014

2 years ago Yesterday, life as the Hancock's knew it changed

2 years, 2 years, 2 years. Two years ago seems so long ago. Yet the emotions of it are at the surface. The emotions are so real, so hard, so just there. I am not sure if it is because Carson has been sick and that is is kind of what started the journey 2 years ago. I remember the ENT telling  me about his open heart surgery and saying he hasn't ever seen this. Dr. Fluchel telling me this ins't cancer. If anything it was a-plastic anemia. I will never forget the look on his face, the way he hung his head as he walked in. I will never forget holding my son's hand as they told me it was cancer, I will never forget the world spinning, and just wishing I was going to wake up and it was all just a awful dream. But it wasn't. He had me call my husband; and then left since we wanted to wait till Brant could be there to talk all of the details out. I then called my mom, and told her; she asked me if she should leave work, the shock was so much. Then called my mother in law and said to hurry down to the hospital. That hour of waiting for everyone to arrive standing by the window; looking at my son; wishing I could just escape. I didn't realize the full effect of what was about to happen, the changes we would make with in our family; and the pain, and illness my son would endure! 


This was him heading to surgery the day after he was diagnosed! I was scared; I held him so tight that day. He made me laugh wearing the glasses. It reminded me of the Movie Big Daddy. :) 



This is him now! still fighting; still sick sometimes. But he fights with a smile, he fights with everything, and even makes us laugh along the way. 


Cancer I hate that you have taken so much from our family! I hate that mother's day is now a sad day for me. But know that while you may get our family down, and you may take some of the best things in life away; you will not win, and we will come out on top, stronger! 

While we were stuck in PCMC that first week Carson watched Cars OVER and OVER and OVER again, I was so sick of that movie, but it made him feel better, at night I would wake up to "Life is a highway" every time it was played. We had the DVD on contentious play-back because if he woke up he wanted to watch it. I guess it was a sign, I heard the song today, and burst in to tears, I have heard it a 1,000 times since and never has it been so emotional, but listening to it just brings back pain, but also after listening to it, the little lyrics are true. Life is a Highway, and believe us cancer Carson will do it his way! 

"Life Is A Highway"
Whooo umm yeah...
Life's like a road that you travel on
When there's one day here and the next day gone
Sometimes you bend, sometimes you stand
Sometimes you turn your back to the wind
There's a world outside ev'ry darkened door
Where blues won't haunt you anymore
Where brave are free and lovers soar
Come ride with me to the distant shore
We won't hesitate
To break down the garden gate
There's not much time left today

[Chorus:]
Life is a highway
I wanna ride it all night long
If you're going my way
I wanna drive it all night long

Through all these cities and all these towns
It's in my blood and it's all around
I love you now like I loved you then
This is the road and these are the hands
From Mozambique to those Memphis nights
The Khyber Pass to Vancouver's lights

Knock me down get back up again
You're in my blood
I'm not a lonely man
There's no load I can't hold
Road so rough this I know
I'll be there when the light comes in
Just tell 'em we're survivors

[Chorus]

Gimme gimme gimme gimme yeah

[Chorus]

There was a distance between you and I (between you and I)
A misunderstanding once
But now we look it in the eye

Ooooo...Yeah!

There ain't no load that I can't hold
Road so rough this I know
I'll be there when the light comes in
Just tell 'em we're survivors

[Chorus: (x3)]
Life is a highway
I wanna ride it all night long
If you're going my way
I wanna drive it all night long

Gimme gimme gimme gimme yeah




I am not sure why this mother's day was as hard for me as it was. Some of it I am sure has to do with the fact, that Carson has had a cough for weeks, and ENT doesn't know what to do; this is how it all started, this is how we began the whirl wind, his airway seems to be the first sign of many things. I will talk to ENT tomorrow and see when they will be scoping him since they need to see what/how much damage has been done, and if there is something we can do, at least to get him to stop coughing. I don't think I will ever forget sitting in the ER and Dr. Mier coming in and explaining the compared to open heart surgery to me because he was having so much trouble breathing; but also the Dr. wasn't sure what the answer was. I feel like we have one foot back in that boat; no doctor seems to know "why" or they tell me " he isn't text book". I long for normal, what normal I am not sure but a simple normal would work for now. I am glad today(mother's day) is over so I can hopefully pick up my pieces and move forward; continue to fight, and not let Cancer take anything more.