Short day

Today we harvest stem cells. 

And before you even offer to give us yours, we did that whole embryo thing too. That stuff doesn’t seem to count. No doctor knows what you would do with those cells. What?! The cells that many of us have been paying monthly rates on?! Yes those.

No doctor I’ve worked with here has saved their own child’s! And what have we done with this knowledge? Nothing. We keep paying monthly even knowing that it’s baloney.

Parents. We are an easy sell. We will do anything. Even stupid things for our kids.

Our current harvest is like putting money away for “college.” Just like college (in its current state), I hope my child will never need them. Stem cells here are a last resort. If Jacob doesn’t respond to treatment or relapses, he will need these for a bone marrow transplant. 

We won’t need them. PLANTING A FLAG here.

So we have an 8 hour day at the hospital, confined to waiting rooms and beds. This is a relatively short day for us.

I know for many of you 8 hours with a five year old at a hospital sounds like the WORST day ever. It would be one of those days that you call a friend. Not just text, but CALL. You just need to hear someone gasp at your tragic waste of a day. Just to hear them commiserate. You had a shitty day and someone needs to know. It is also a day, that when your spouse comes home, you just announce you are taking a bath. Good luck honey! I’ve done my share. 

But it’s a good day here. Isn’t that crazy?!

How perspective can change the exact same experience? Been reading a lot about that lately. How you and I can look at the exact same image and walk away with different meanings.

So to you a long shitty day. To me, it’’s not a chemo day! 

So I am  just thankful. Thankful for a boat load of things. 

Thankful for the machine that harvests these cells versus the surgery that existed before. Thankful that there will never be a shortage of movies with “battles.” Thankful for my family that sits by me

Thankful it is a short day.

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