While we’re (still) waiting for those numbers to come up, I wanted to make a post that gives a more complete picture of this whole rollercoaster ride.
Beginning in mid-January, Lauren started looking pale. She’d had a few unexplained fevers that didn’t really develop into anything, but given it was winter and given Lauren’s going to school and being around a lot of kids who could have who knows what, I didn’t worry much. I’d taken her to the doctor and there didn’t seem to be too much concern there, so we just kept on moving on. Then she got the flu and got even more pale. The weird fevers hit now and again, and her appetite absolutely disappeared. On February 11, she seemed to feel just awful. She was staring off into space, pale, not interested in eating, uncharacteristically unfriendly and crabby … I decided to take her to the doctor again since it really seemed to be getting worse. She still had the cough from the flu, but that was about it. No runny nose or stomach problems. It really just seemed like that lingering stuff that kids get and keep forever.
So the next day I planned to take her to an urgent care place, but when we got there it was closed. On a whim, I called her pediatrician’s office from when she was a baby (but we hadn’t gone there since she was a few months old) to see if they had a last-minute appointment. They had just had a cancellation and I could have it if I could get there in 10-15 minutes. I did, and almost as soon as the doctor saw her, I could see the fear in her (the doc’s) face. I asked what she was afraid of because I could sense something was very wrong. “Leukemia” was said somewhere, and that’s eventually all I heard. She sent us to a nearby hospital to get blood drawn and a chest x-ray (to check for pneumonia), promised that I’d get a phone call that night to let me know the results. I am grateful to that doctor for how quickly she moved with us. Eventually, obviously, she called that night and told me to take Lauren to the emergency room at Phoenix Children’s Hospital as soon as possible. They weren’t sure yet if it WAS leukemia, but it was looking a lot like it, she said.
Lauren was up at Ryan’s house just then as it was his birthday (though he was very sick with the flu she’d given him) and she said she wanted to spend time with him that day. As sick as she was, she was adamant about being at Daddy’s house on his birthday. I was at my house waiting for Dominic to come by. He came in just as I was informing my mother of what the doctor had said. My mom was in Las Vegas but grabbed the first flight home that she could. At this point I was scared to death. It still wasn’t 100% that she had leukemia, but up until then leukemia was a giant, scary, hairy monster that lurked just out of my reach ready to run up and attack. At this point, with the doctor’s words, it was still threatening and mostly unknown, which made it much more scary.
I remember thinking to myself that that night would be remembered as one horrible night. To be honest, I kind of look at it with gratitude because it’s the night we got her where she needed to be — in the care of some seriously amazing health professionals who know what to do and how to do it, and thank God for them. I wish I’d taken her earlier, but from what I’m hearing she had to be at the level she was at for the pieces of the puzzle to fall together as swiftly as they did.
When she was admitted, they drew more blood. Getting the needle into her arm to draw blood was excruciating. She was scared, but they have a wonderful Child Life team at the hospital whose sole job it is is to help children feel less scared and more empowered (by knowledge) about what’s going on with them and their bodies. They taught her how to take deep breaths and blow out while something painful or uncomfortable is going on, and she mastered that in, literally, seconds.
The blood draw showed that she had blast cells, which indicated leukemia. That moment, in my memory, is mostly a numb, disconnected feeling. I had still been hoping it was just anemia from not eating enough, so the reality of what it was was kind of surreal. The rest of her numbers were pretty sobering.
Hemoglobin was 2.7 (which explained the paleness and the being crabby/unfriendly; normal = 11.5-14.5)
RBC count was .89 (normal = 4.6 - 4.8)
WBC count was actually within normal ranges - 10.2k (normal = 4k - 12k)
Later, the doctors said that her “normal” white blood count coupled with her extremely low hemoglobin was a sign that the disease wasn’t terribly aggressive. Some kids come in with 100k white blood cells and fairly normal hemoglobin, which indicates its aggressiveness? I’m not 100% sure about that.
As soon as she got her first blood transfusion, her color came back! Her personality returned! She was giggling and being silly and kicking her feet and laughing. With this, my hope snapped back. I realized that a lot of my despair was connected to how terrible she’d been feeling. If she could feel well AND go through treatment? In my mind, leukemia lost its fangs with that. I could do this if she could feel good and be happy with minimal discomfort.
All of this hit on Tuesday, February 12, around 10pm when we entered Phoenix Children’s Hospital’s emergency room. We were whisked past the hordes of people waiting to be seen (the hospital was waiting for us) and I’m sure a few of them called us some colorful names. Lauren obviously hasn’t left since that day, but she doesn’t seem too bothered by it. She likes being there and getting taken care of. She hates her medicines though she takes them with minimal complaint.
The nurses and doctors are all amazed by her verbal ability, how good she is at taking her medicines, and what a cutie she is.
