61) That awful day

On Sunday July 22nd, 2018, we will mark the one year anniversary of E's leukemia diagnosis.

In the past couple of weeks, I've found myself thinking back to July 2017. I've had "On This Day" reminders pop up in Google Photos, where I'd taken pictures at family outings, or get-togethers. When I see E in those photos, all I can think is that he looks so yellow, he looks terrible, he looks sick. I remember the yellowing of his skin, and at the time dismissing it, and chalking it up to too many orange coloured foods. I look at ourselves in the photos, and I see a happy young family who had no idea about the horrors that were barreling toward us at breakneck speed. I see the last bits of our lives before cancer changed things forever.

Thankfully, and luckily, the leukemia was caught when we brought him to a pediatric chewing and swallowing specialist about a completely different issue. If that had never happened, he would have eventually been diagnosed, but I don't know in what time frame. E was asymptomatic at diagnosis; no apparent bruising, no extra tiredness, no weakness, no fever, just a cold that lasted a couple of weeks, and the yellowing skin. I don't beat myself up over it, but I suppose I'll always feel a twang of guilt for him being diagnosed in a roundabout way. That being said, would even the most worrywart, "Chicken Little" parent have even guessed cancer from their child having a cold & yellowish skin?

One year ago tomorrow, my wife and I were driving home after E had what we thought was routine bloodwork because the pediatric specialist thought he might be anemic. Two things happpened en route: 1) despite E's sensory issues to food textures, we discussed how lucky we were to have two healthy boys. And 2) we stopped at Real Canadian Superstore & were greeted by a SickKids volunteer who was soliciting monthly donations. We were already monthly donors, so he thanked us, and we continued along our way, unaware that we'd be on our way to that very hospital in just 16 short hours. I've written about them previously, but to this day, those two things still haunt me to my core.

One year ago this coming Sunday, we received phone calls from two separate doctors who told us to get to SickKids with our son E for further testing. It would be the beginning of our nightmare known as childhood leukemia.

Flash forward to today, almost one year on from diagnosis, and E's leukemia seems to be responding well to treatment. He's a happy little guy. His hair has grown back. He seems to be hitting all of his development milestones, but it's still tough. I hate he's had to go through this. I hate that we're going through this. I hate that our families, and friends are all going through it too. I'm not sure what we're going to do on Sunday, but I'd like to do something. It doesn't have to be big, or grandiose, but I'd like to do something so that we own the anniversary of that awful day, rather than it owning us.