Happy Anniversary to Us

Ten years ago today Max was diagnosed with leukemia. It was easily the worst day of my life.

She was about 21 months old, the most active baby/toddler I’d ever seen and notorious among our friends for never getting sick.

And then there we were, being told she had to be bedridden, because her blood was so messed up that if she fell, a fatal hemorrhage was a serious possibility. And many long long long hours later, we found ourselves in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit, looking at her in a crib—itself a somewhat novel experience—with tubes and wires all over her, as machines pulled every drop of damaged blood out of her little body and replaced it with all new stuff. It was nearly a year before we realized just how close we came to losing her—a matter of days, almost certainly, and maybe hours, if Top Management hadn’t listened to that little voice inside that said something was wrong and we had to try to get a last minute appointment with our doctor on a busy Saturday.

And it was weeks before we discovered that, thanks to an only slightly out-of-date medical dictionary, what we’d thought was our best-case-scenario—that if we were incredibly lucky, she’d live to see her seventh birthday—was no longer applicable and that what the head of the department, a cranky jerk of a man I always liked because of this one bit, called “the c word” was actually a possibility: that maybe she could, in fact, be cured.

And here we are, ten years down the road, and that little girl in the PICU has turned into everything I could ever have dreamt of, and more than I ever could have hoped for: sweet, funny, gorgeous, brilliant, inquisitive, patient, helpful and loving.

We’re now three years past that long ago best-case-scenario and every extra day is better than the one before, and the one before was pretty damn great.

Which leads me to realize that this day ten years ago may indeed have been the worst day of my life.

But it was also the best. Because that was the day we suddenly veered off onto a different path, a difficult path, a path I didn’t see coming at all, but one which finally led us to where we are right now: yet another day with my not-so-little-anymore girl.

Happy anniversary, kiddo. And many, many, many happy returns of the day.

Comments

[DT]

Scott, that was unspeakably beautiful. For once I am speechless.

You are amazing. As is your magnificent family.

[xixi]

so lovely

[Alice Gunther]

Scott, I think March 22, 1997 was the day I grew up and began to realize life doesn't go on forever. The thought repeating itself in my mind for weeks afterward was, "Max can't have leukemia. She's too important."

This post does the impossible--it adequately represents the horror and beauty of that day. It is perfect.

[Karen E.]

You've got me in tears. What a beautiful post from such a loving daddy. Blessings to you and your whole beautiful family.

[KC]

What a beautiful post.

[sarah]

I won't bore everyone with the ridiculously long post that I left at Bonny Glen. To summarize, it has been an amazing experience to see what some of "my kids" in the hospital may be like now, years out from their treatment. I'm sure some aren't around, but some are. Every time I see her, I think of them and hope that their life has turned out as well. She is sunshine personified. Happy day.

[Suzanne Temple]

Such an amazing story. Such a neat family! I enjoyed reading this. Thank you.

[Suzanne Temple]

Such an amazing story. Such a neat family! I enjoyed reading this. Thank you.

[Sprittibee]

Wow. Great delivery of a wonderful toast. May you share many more with your angel.

[J.B.]

Wow. Most of this we never knew. And she's still one of the most amazing kids (even people) that we've ever known. I don't need to tell you that when it comes to raisin' kids, you guys done good... :)

We miss you guys, but we're glad you like it there!

[Lisa]

Heartbroken for you all 10 years ago. SO Ingredibly grateful for you all today! That daughter of yours is such a gift to this world and to us personally. Thanks for giving me a fresh reason to celebrate today, my friend.

[Maureen]

Thanks for sharing. I have friends going through an aggressive form of leukemia right now with their 7 yo son.

[KathyR]

Hooray for Max and her family. Beautifully told.

[Andrea]

God bless.

Congratulations, Max. Congratulations, Fambly.

[Mary Beth P]

I remember that day, too! You know I've sent up (and continue to do so) endless prayers on behalf of that incredible little girl, and her precious family! I'm glad I had the chance to know you all!