Chandra's Journal


September 19, 2005…

We’re baa…aack! My trip to Austin and back with Canon and Creed went very well. We all had a lot of fun! There’s so much to tell - let me see if I can break down the highlights…

I have one more week to stay home all day with Canon and Creed before I have to go back to school on Monday. Thanks to the tremendous effort of the administration both at my school and on the district level, I’m able to work in a part-time position, from 11:00 – 4:00. This will be a blessing in so many ways. First and most obviously, I get more time with the boys. And because I don’t have to be there until 11:00, I’ll be able to let Canon sleep until 8:30 or 9:00 like he’s used to and not have to wake him up and rush everybody through the morning. Also, the position I’m returning to is not a homeroom classroom position like I’ve always been. It’s more of a traveling Reading tutor position. This means that when we get called to go to Houston for the transplant, they won’t have to find a sub right away, and I won’t be leaving a class full of fourth graders right before their big test or anything. I’m so grateful to my principal, Mr. Word, and my assistant principals, Mrs. Huseman and Mrs. Cobb for caring so much about making that work for me. I’m going to miss the boys terribly for those five hours, and I’m sure I’ll be wiping away tears when I get to school for a while, just like when I first had to leave Canon. But I’m trying very hard to concentrate on the positives: Number one – they have the absolute best babysitter on the planet! Rhonda McIntosh has loved Canon like one of her own sons and already loves Creed, too. Her day is plenty full home-schooling her fourth and second grade boys, and she still wanted to do this for us! She has given and given and given and I only hope for a day when I can even begin to repay all the love she has shown us. Number two (positive thing) – I do love teaching. I love that those kids respond to me showing them that I care about them. I love feeling like I made a difference in their life. Even the hard ones, most of the time, eventually allow me in and connect with me… and that’s a great thing.

At Canon’s appointment in Lubbock, Dr. Higgins, the GI, just checked the size of his liver and commented that it didn’t seem significantly larger, but agreed with Dr. Young that it is pretty hard. When I asked what he thought we should expect at his next appointment in Houston, October 12th, he said that he thinks Canon is ready to be listed for transplant. When we came back through Lubbock, I called Dr. Higgins’s office to check the blood work results. His nurse reported that both numbers, the ALT and the AST, were elevated (not good). She told me that Dr. Higgins had already called Houston and gave the results to Dr. Karpen, who also said he thought it was time to go on the list when we visit in October. I have been so preoccupied with those words that I feel like I can barely carry on a conversation lately. For the past six months, ever since the word ‘transplant’ was spoken, though I comprehended the facts and have reacted emotionally many times, I don’t believe I have yet internalized what is actually happening. I have even thought many times concerning the fundraising effort, ‘Oh that’s so nice, but we’re not REALLY going to need that.’ I don’t know what I thought was going to happen. Maybe I thought God would heal him miraculously (You still have time, God). Maybe I thought we could just live forever in the happy moments after Creed was born when Canon began to realize that we are family. Maybe I thought the world would end before we would have to go through this. I don’t know. My friend Ginger reminded me on the phone yesterday that I prayed fervently that God would let us concentrate on a healthy pregnancy and delivery and making sure Creed was okay before we had to worry about the transplant. When I remembered how many times I prayed that, I began to realize that God heard me and showed us mercy. But I’m still not ready. This is so hard to explain – I need my son to be okay, to be well; but I don’t know how to handle the means to the end. I’m so scared. I don’t know what I fear more, watching Canon experience pain or failing to be as strong as he needs me to be.

Lord, as I prayed over Canon tonight, I looked at him lying on his side and noticed the contrast of his thin arms and legs and his distended belly. You saw the tears immediately gush from my eyes as I became overwhelmed at what we have to do. God, Canon still has no idea what’s coming, but Drew and I do. And it’s all I can think about. I just want to hide somewhere until it’s over. Not physically, because I know I have to be there for Canon, for everybody. But can’t you just take us under your wing and give us some kind of supernatural anesthetizing peace? Just put us all to sleep and let us rest with you, just breathing YOU in and out, until this is over. I know you’re listening and you know what I mean.


“Hear, O Lord, my righteous plea; listen to my cry… I call on you, O God, for you will answer me… Show me the wonder of your great love, you who save by your right hand those who take refuge in you from their foes… hide me in the shadow of your wings… I will see your face; when I awake, I will be satisfied with seeing your likeness.
Excerpts from Psalms 17

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