The child I'm shaving my hair for this year is one of the St. Baldrick's Ambassador children! So cool! This is his part of the little email I just got:
"One year ago"
By Kim Ulmer, Ty's mom
“A year ago” means more to us than we ever thought possible.
A year ago, our son Ty was diagnosed with osteosarcoma (bone cancer). What a day that was, like a dream now but a year ago, it was the worst nightmare that a parent could have.
A year ago, he had surgery to have his port placed and started chemotherapy.
A year ago, we were in the hospital learning new words and medical terms for Ty’s treatment.
A year ago, we were now considered part of a family that no parent should ever have to be part of – we were now a “cancer family.”
A year ago, we were moving into a new house that was one-story so, when Ty came home from the hospital in January after having his leg amputated, he could have full access to the house.
A year ago this month, we were not only trying to get the house together a week before Thanksgiving but we were trying to think of what to cook that Ty could eat. The normal menu of ham, casseroles, yams and potatoes were a no brainier – or at least should have been.
But when you have a child with cancer, even the simplest of things to eat become a challenge.
You see, a year ago this month, Ty had some of the worst mouth sores that he had ever had during his treatment. We woke up in the morning telling each other, “Happy Thanksgiving” (we did have a lot to be thankful about, even though Ty was fighting cancer). The smell of the food was filling the house and everyone was anxious to eat.
When it came time for the meal, Ty wasn’t able to eat at the table because he felt so bad. I took him a bowl of mashed potatoes with butter on them, which I thought was simple enough and would be easy to go down. Ty was famished and anxious to eat them, it had been a day or so since he had last eaten.
We said Grace and everyone dug in. But for Ty, it was one of the worst meals that he would ever experience. The mashed potatoes felt like shards of glass or gravel going down his throat. “Think about when you’re eating potato chips, and one goes down the wrong way and it hurts as it scrapes down your throat, of course multiply that by 1,000 chips all at once,” Ty said.
As tears fell down both our cheeks, I was at a loss for what to do. If mashed potatoes couldn’t be eaten, then what could? Frustration, sadness and anger hit me all at once.
How on earth is a child supposed to go through something like this? How is a family supposed to handle watching their child be in so much pain? I didn’t have the answers, but we figured it out.
A year ago this month, we were reminded about what things are important and what things are not so important. And having a child with cancer, who can’t eat and is in pain, made it crystal clear what the important things are.
“A year ago today, this week, this month,” these are some powerful words that remind us all how precious life is and how quickly things can change. Our lives changed forever, but somehow, some way we have found many, many things to be thankful for.
This year, Ty is looking forward to an extra helping of mashed potatoes.
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