she will not break

"And though she be but little, she is fierce." -Shakespeare

I think this is an accurate statement for my sweet B. She's the true definition of a fighter, with a heart of gold and compassion for others. Never once putting herself before others. Anyone who knows B would agree. I'm so proud of her. 

I last talked about mucositis and how painful it was for Bailey. I don't want to continue talking about it, one it's just horrible and thinking about what I allowed to happen to her body is painful. It was a constant battle to remember that I was doing what I had to do, to keep her alive, because there was no other option. At that moment, HDC (high dose chemotherapy) followed by a stem cell transplant was all that was left. Eight other drugs had let her down, left her with disease. Actually, I don't want to blame the drugs, I want to blame cancer. It's intelligent and while outsmart you at any given moment. It will hide and appear when you least expect it.

One of the things that helped B during this time was the mouth suction. Like when you're at the dentist, they spray the water and then suck it out. She had one of those attached to the wall next to her bed. So would lay with it in the crease of her mouth, closing her lips around it each time she needed to swallow. I was thankful for this. But saddened at the same time. It was just one more obstacle that presented itself and without fail, she overcame.

{My sweet girl}

At some point, during week 3, B found it difficult to breathe and required oxygen. This was one of the few things that she fought me on. No kid wants that mask on their face, have you ever experienced it? It caused me more anxiety using the mask once. She eventually switch to the nasal cannula. When the nurses would walk out, or at night, she would slide it out of her nose and leave it right above her lip. She would soon learn that this caused her stats to drop and the alarms to beep and the nurses to return. 

Respiratory therapists would come in at all hours to check on her. From the hours of 10pm-7am, if you weren't absolutely necessary, you got the boot. I wasn't afraid to ask you to leave. Don't worry, I wasn't declining anything important. But, after a long day of fevers, throwing up, crying, attempting lung exercises and deep breathing wasn't happening. 

{This is cancer.}

{Sometimes she had enough energy to sit up and draw. She's quite the artist. This was also the time she started pushing me away. The depression was setting in. She had been in the this room for weeks, with no fresh air. No family or friends. Just her, me and the tv. And 3,489 medical professionals. Some necessary, some not.}

Sitting next to her in the picture above is a box of tissue (random tears would stream down) and 2 green sick bags. She didn't even need me, she would simply turn her mouth into one and then hand it over when she was finished. I wouldn't say anything. Just throw it out, write the time and how much, grab the wet washcloth and then wipe her face.

Cancer, I still dislike you.

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