Caught in a nightmare

What can I say...
Last night I was worried about nightmares... Today I'm living in one...

I did the research. I tried to be prepared for the worst, but somehow I must still have been stupid enough to think that life would finally cut me a break, but I see life gives breaks to no one.

Nothing in life can prepare you for the day that a doctor walks out of surgery to tell you your 7 month old baby is very likely to have malignant tumors in both eyes. That because of the necessary treatment of this disease, the life you dreamed of having with him is not the life that you will get to live...

He was such a little warrior today. We had to get up at 4 AM to be able to be in Ludn by 7:30, so that the eye drops which dilates his pupils would have time to take effect before the examination. He was also to get something to make him calm before he was given the anesthetics. I honestly thought it'd be a hard time getting over there, since he wasn't allowed to eat, but he was so super good the whole time during the trip over there and, during the 30 minutes we had to stand around and do nothing while waiting for the department for day surgery to open.

They let us in around 20 after 7, so I thought that we might even be starting early, but they didn't even do anything for the first 30 minutes, except give me some paperwork to fill out, which they by the way did not want to read to me, so Alex had to do that. The nurse didn't straight up refuse, but when I pointed out to her that I would need help to fill them out she quickly turned to Alex and, asked him why he couldn't do it. I again, pointed out that he's 14 years old and, that it's important that everything's done correctly, but she just shrugged it off and walked away.

I'm assuming that she didn't want to listen to little peeper screaming from such a close distance, but hey, I'd be screaming too if I was starving and nobody would give me something to eat.

You'd think that could motivate them to hurry things along a little bit, but instead they let him cry for 20 minutes before they finally gave us a room and, got him the medication that he needed. There were no other patients there, so lack of time was not the reason for this. Needless to say I was about to start screaming myself...

He got sleepy right away after he had gotten the medication however. He didn't fall asleep, but he was super calm. I was a little bit worried about that, cause that sort of medication had the opposite effect on me when I was little. If my mom is to be believed that is; it may just have been that I of course, like any child who has been forced to go through difficult treatment, had learned to fear the hospital.

I went with to the operating theater and, stayed with little Peeper until he was asleep. They couldn't find a vein at first, so it took a little while before they could start. I had put a anesthetic cream on his hands, but I was worried about that too. I'm allergic to that cream myself, so I wasn't sure if he would be too. That and it was very hard to get the band aids to stay on. They use the same ones for babies and adults and, it doesn't take much to figure out why that is a bad idea.

They were way too big, so he could easily get a hold of them and pull them off. That and, he kept trying to eat them, so I was afraid that the cream wouldn't have had any effect at all even if he didn't have a reaction to it. I'm really grateful that it worked, cause he didn't feel a thing even though they had to try over and over.

He just kept trying to eat on their hands and, he was talking away to all of them in his own adorable way. The people in there were great and, I was a lot calmer coming out of there than I had been walking in.

I wasn't allowed to stay during the procedure, but the whole thing took no more than 15 minutes and, I knew right away that something was wrong, cause the doctor asked for a private room where she could speak to us and, if he had been alright she could have just said so there and then, cause there were still no other patients around in the waiting room.

She suspects one tumor in the center of his right eye and one to the side of Macula in his left one. She's not allowed to say that it's Retinoblastoma, cause we have to go on to Stockholm for further testing, but that is still what we have to prepare ourselves for.

B wants to believe that there is still hope that it won't be the cancer, but I don't think so. It's better to be prepared and, try to take in that that is what it is. There's no reason to be an ostrich. It won't all go away no matter how deep we try to bury our heads in the sand...

After the meeting with the doctor we could go sit by Squeaker's bed and wait for him to wake up. I'm not sure how long it took, but maybe 30 minutes or so. He didn't even fuss or anything when he came too. He was content with that he was finally allowed to eat and, after that he just wanted me to hug him and, he kept wanting to give me kisses over and over.

I just wished that I could curl into a ball around him and, protect him against all evil. Or that I could take him back into my body so that he'd never have to know about vile things like Retinoblastoma.

As parents, our basic instinct is to strive to protect our children. We'll live for them. We'll fight for them. We'll die for them. If I could take the cancer for him I would. But there's nothing I can do... Nothing... Except watch him suffer and, try to motivate him to fight. Though I'm not sure how to do that, when all I want to do is cry...

All I can do is hold him when he cries and, try to comfort him and, lie that everything will be alright. It will not be alright!

He will have to deal with all sorts of terrible side effects from the Chemo. He will lose his wonderfully downy hair, He will be sick. He will be hurting. He may even lose hearing and, in the end he may lose his vision anyway. He will be in pain. He will be crying and, he won't understand what's going on. And there's nothing I can do... Nothing...

It’s like being struck by a bolt of lightning on a cloudless day. One day life seems so normal. The next, you are snatched out of that existence and thrown into a world where everything seems like a nightmare. No warning! No way to prepare or put things in order. The world as it has always been, has changed its course forever and, nothing will ever be the same.

I've learned the hard way that life, more often than not, refuses to deliver our hopes and dreams. Once upon a time I had a dream about a miraculous recovery for my little Andreas and, it was to no avail. It took time. But finally I dared to dream again; oh for a healthy, wonderfully soft and warm little baby to fill the void of my existence... And this time... It came true.

My little rainbow, the apple of my eye, my Joy, The reason I wake up happy these days even without the antidepressants. My every day motivator and, the reason I remember even in my darkest moments that there is always the sunrise to look forward to. The reason I tell people that even when there's nothing else, there is always hope. Along with his brother he is all those things and more, but he is now also one more thing... He is a cancer patient; and my world, my dream, my heart are all dying...