Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Appleville Giveaway from The Quilt Barn
I love the Appleville Fabric. The Quilt Barn in Kimberly, Idaho is having a great giveaway for a $100.00 gift certificate. What fun! Check it out here!
You won't want to miss out on this giveaway!
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Mount Timpanogos Courtesy cjane Emma and I are still here in Utah. You know it was never my goal to live in Utah. Being born and raised in Idaho required you to have a small disdain for the Wasatch Front. Not that I didn't love to visit and not that I didn't love many people known as Utes or Zoobies, but I was perfectly happy in my own little zion (and they say Utah is zion?! Please~!)
However I am enjoying many Utah advantages. I am minutes away from Gateway Plaza (I love, love, love the Apple Mac store) and Trolley Square. I can grab a Cafe Rio pork salad every day if I wanted, but what's the point... it's not home!
Many of you have asked for our address in Utah (pathetic that I have an address here). Emma does love letters and getting mail here at the hospital. It really boosts her day and we hang things all over her room. So anytime you want to drop her a line, feel free:
Primary Children's Medical Center
c/o ICS Emma Gibbons
100 N Mario Capecchi Dr
Salt Lake City UT 84113
I am happy to report that for this weekend this will (most likely) not be our address.
After transfusions and medications and lots and lots of prayers, her counts finally came up. The ANC (absolute neutrofil count, don't know if I'm spelling it right) has to be between 1.5 and 8.0. Since January 26 it has basically been non- existent, AKA zero! Well a miracle has happened and today it is up to 2.2. Also, she hasn't had any Tylenol in two days and has kept her fever at bay. I talked to the doctors and they expect her to go home early Friday. This would really bouy her up as she has to be back on Monday 2/9 and a few days home would do her soul good.
Thanks for all of your prayers. Keep them coming. I'm trying not to jinx things, but I really hope to be home this weekend.
Thanks for everything.
-Lana
Thursday, January 22, 2009
HOT
I am hot. Not H-O-T - hot, but hot under the collar, steamed, spicy, on fire.
Sometimes I have these moments that it really hits me that my daughter has cancer. Leukemia sounds so much better, less threatening, however they talk around here like she has cancer. Whatever the crap that means. Anyway, often in my head I validate it by repeating, "Emma has cancer." "My daughter has cancer." "Remember you've heard of cancer, you have it."
I know we are not the first to experience these things, but I really feel ripped off.
Right now Emma has a sore on her bottom the size of Grenada (you know a small country). This is something she should have to experience only at an older age and only after she's pushed a small, living human being out of her (which won't happen anyway). Do I sound bitter? I feel bitter. I am bitter.
I feel like hitting something. Maybe tomorrow I should go work out at the Jewish Community Center (free membership to all parents who have a kid with cancer). If only my legs would work after sleeping on this dam (ha, ha I spelled it wrong, doesn't count) faux leather couch. Has it only been two nights here? For the love!
Right now Emma is getting chemo called Methotrexate (google that one). It is bright yellow and makes her pee look like limeade. I will never drink limeade again... ever! She has to pee this out every two hours. It is toxic. She gets drops put in her eyes every three hours. You know, because the drugs could make her go blind. Nothing big. Stop the Madness!
I could go on and on because this was not my plan.
Did you know He talks to me even when I'm angry? He loves me and has a greater plan.
I will trust. It's soooooooo (remember when we wrote "so" like that in jr. high? ex. I like you sooooooo much) hard. H-A-R-D, hard!
The greater plan He has for me... I don't know, but I know Him, and that's enough.
Of this I testify.
Goodnight (or is it morning?).
Sometimes I have these moments that it really hits me that my daughter has cancer. Leukemia sounds so much better, less threatening, however they talk around here like she has cancer. Whatever the crap that means. Anyway, often in my head I validate it by repeating, "Emma has cancer." "My daughter has cancer." "Remember you've heard of cancer, you have it."
I know we are not the first to experience these things, but I really feel ripped off.
Right now Emma has a sore on her bottom the size of Grenada (you know a small country). This is something she should have to experience only at an older age and only after she's pushed a small, living human being out of her (which won't happen anyway). Do I sound bitter? I feel bitter. I am bitter.
I feel like hitting something. Maybe tomorrow I should go work out at the Jewish Community Center (free membership to all parents who have a kid with cancer). If only my legs would work after sleeping on this dam (ha, ha I spelled it wrong, doesn't count) faux leather couch. Has it only been two nights here? For the love!
Right now Emma is getting chemo called Methotrexate (google that one). It is bright yellow and makes her pee look like limeade. I will never drink limeade again... ever! She has to pee this out every two hours. It is toxic. She gets drops put in her eyes every three hours. You know, because the drugs could make her go blind. Nothing big. Stop the Madness!
I could go on and on because this was not my plan.
Did you know He talks to me even when I'm angry? He loves me and has a greater plan.
I will trust. It's soooooooo (remember when we wrote "so" like that in jr. high? ex. I like you sooooooo much) hard. H-A-R-D, hard!
The greater plan He has for me... I don't know, but I know Him, and that's enough.
Of this I testify.
Goodnight (or is it morning?).
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Want to win this stroller!
Would love to win this stroller http://inevergrewup.net/giveaway-25-bumbleride-indie-stroller/
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Keeping in Touch with Emma
Emma's Blog!Many of you are looking for and asking about the blog that Emma has started.
It is http://www.surgerystinks8.blogspot.com/. She has come up with the blog all by her very own self. What she writes is what she is thinking which is so cute and hilarious. I don't help her with grammer or punctuation. (My mother was an english teacher. I have no excuse.) I just get her set up on the computer and she writes it herself.
Enjoy!!
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Breaking News (as in breaking my heart)
Today... Monday... always the day, the big dance, the show.
Emma and I showed up at Primary Children's this morning for her treatments. I was so excited because we were only there for Chemo, basically in and out in an hour. I could handle that, Emma could eat (no fasting for tests) and we were happy.
Dr. Phil (seriously, but not the real Dr. Phil) came in and checked on Emma. She said she was happy, but gassy (quite hilarious description) and hungry.
The doctor then turned to me and said, "Well, we probably need to talk." The blood instantly rushed to my face as this statement brought back terrible memories of two specific occasions. I mean when has, "Well, we probably need to talk," ever meant anything good?
The first of these occasions was when I was a sophomore in high school. I was dating a severly attractive boy (he could bench 175, that was a lot). His name was Brad (the coolest name eva') and we were H-O-T! Anyway, one evening he takes me on a drive and completely unbeknownst (yes, that is a word) to me, he was breaking up with me. I mean usually I could tell if we were drifting apart from as a couple, or I was the one doing the dumping, but no! He said, "I think we need to talk," and WHAM (not the singing group) it was over. Heartbroken.
The second occasion was just a couple of weeks ago. Dr. Graham called to let me know the results of Emma's blood draw. She had been sick. I was expecting something... but not that! Dr Graham said, "We need to talk, (this sentence is becoming a theme here... see?) You need to sit down." To which I responded, "I'm hanging up now." At which time WHAM (again, not the singing group, however I would like a reunion)... Leukemia.
As you can see this "talking" is not a good thing for me.
Anyway, Dr. Phil said that Emma has philadelphia chromosome translocation . Long story short (click on the link if you want some biology) two chromosomes (#9 and #22) have cross breeded, which is against the rules! This makes it harder to treat leukemia. These two cells had an affair (shame, shame) and as a result have caused lots of mutant DNA throughout her cells. In the end, Emma will need a bone marrow transplant. In the beginning (I act like it was so long ago) this is what were so thankful she didn't need.
Her siblings (all five of them, thank goodness for proliferation) have now been tested to see if they are a match (we will know the results in two weeks). They each have a 25% chance that they will match. No this does not mean that we have a 125% chance of matching. Come on, where were you during statistics? But, with so many siblings, the chances are obviously higher that a match will be found.
This is what we are praying for... that a match will be found within her siblings. Please, please, I am pleading with you (I have lost all pride) to join me in prayer as we ask our Heavenly Father to help us through this time.
Of course it is late at night. I can't sleep and everything seems darker than it really is. The light will come tomorrow. The christmas trees and the season give me hope. I will head over to Emily's house tomorrow because her house sparkles and it makes me happy. You all make me happy and you all give me hope.
Tears... amen.
-Lana
Emma and I showed up at Primary Children's this morning for her treatments. I was so excited because we were only there for Chemo, basically in and out in an hour. I could handle that, Emma could eat (no fasting for tests) and we were happy.
Dr. Phil (seriously, but not the real Dr. Phil) came in and checked on Emma. She said she was happy, but gassy (quite hilarious description) and hungry.
The doctor then turned to me and said, "Well, we probably need to talk." The blood instantly rushed to my face as this statement brought back terrible memories of two specific occasions. I mean when has, "Well, we probably need to talk," ever meant anything good?
The first of these occasions was when I was a sophomore in high school. I was dating a severly attractive boy (he could bench 175, that was a lot). His name was Brad (the coolest name eva') and we were H-O-T! Anyway, one evening he takes me on a drive and completely unbeknownst (yes, that is a word) to me, he was breaking up with me. I mean usually I could tell if we were drifting apart from as a couple, or I was the one doing the dumping, but no! He said, "I think we need to talk," and WHAM (not the singing group) it was over. Heartbroken.
The second occasion was just a couple of weeks ago. Dr. Graham called to let me know the results of Emma's blood draw. She had been sick. I was expecting something... but not that! Dr Graham said, "We need to talk, (this sentence is becoming a theme here... see?) You need to sit down." To which I responded, "I'm hanging up now." At which time WHAM (again, not the singing group, however I would like a reunion)... Leukemia.
As you can see this "talking" is not a good thing for me.
Anyway, Dr. Phil said that Emma has philadelphia chromosome translocation . Long story short (click on the link if you want some biology) two chromosomes (#9 and #22) have cross breeded, which is against the rules! This makes it harder to treat leukemia. These two cells had an affair (shame, shame) and as a result have caused lots of mutant DNA throughout her cells. In the end, Emma will need a bone marrow transplant. In the beginning (I act like it was so long ago) this is what were so thankful she didn't need.
Her siblings (all five of them, thank goodness for proliferation) have now been tested to see if they are a match (we will know the results in two weeks). They each have a 25% chance that they will match. No this does not mean that we have a 125% chance of matching. Come on, where were you during statistics? But, with so many siblings, the chances are obviously higher that a match will be found.
This is what we are praying for... that a match will be found within her siblings. Please, please, I am pleading with you (I have lost all pride) to join me in prayer as we ask our Heavenly Father to help us through this time.
Of course it is late at night. I can't sleep and everything seems darker than it really is. The light will come tomorrow. The christmas trees and the season give me hope. I will head over to Emily's house tomorrow because her house sparkles and it makes me happy. You all make me happy and you all give me hope.
Tears... amen.
-Lana
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