This morning I woke Kenton up about 5:30 to get him ready to go help the scouts put flags up for flag day. He was downstairs getting dressed while I heated him up a breakfast sandwich. He came upstairs and said that he had a headache. I told him I'd get him an Aleve to take with his breakfast. I turned to the microwave to get his breakfast out and when I turned back around, he was throwing up in the garbage can. He threw up a lot.
I sent Katie a text telling her not to come get Kenton because he was sick.
Sent Luke a text saying that we should probably take Kenton back to the doctor that afternoon because he had a fever again (he'd had them off and on all week) and the lump in his armpit wasn't going away (it had been there for a little over a week, but we figured it was part of the staph infection that he was already being treated for).
I had math class that day. McKayslin had gymnastics.
I fixed Kenton some toast, gave him some Pepsi, had him take an Aleve for his fever and his antibiotic for the staph infection, made sure he was comfortable with blankets and pillows and the remote, and McKayslin and I headed off to math class.
During math class Kenton sent me a few different texts that his head hurt or that he was really hot. Luke came and picked McKayslin up for gymnastics and then brought her back to class. After class I stopped to get the kids some tomato macaroni soup at Juniper Take Out. The kids ate their soup and watched tv. I fell asleep on the couch. Around 2:30 Luke sent a text saying he was done with work.
We decided to just meet at the clinic so that we could figure out what was going on with Kenton. Dr. Morgan looked at Kenton's armpit and sent us immediately to the ER (our first tiny miracle). He'd called ahead so they were ready for us to arrive. 4:13 pm.
At the ER we had a very capable and kind doctor (another tiny miracle) that for some reason ordered a blood work-up (miracle number 3) even though they had already determined that they were going to treat the mass in Kenton's armpit as staph and had called in a dermatologist to check the healing sores on his sides.
Luke and McKayslin had gone home.
I sent a text saying that they had a treatment plan and would let them know what was happening further as I knew.
Kenton had an ultrasound on his armpit.
The dermatologist and the dr. were in the room explaining what the treatment plan would be when the nurse walked in with the results from the blood work-up.
The next few minutes are frozen in my mind.
"I think you'd better look at this. . ." as she hands a paper to the doctor and the dermatologist.
"Well, this changes everything. . ." as the doctors look at each other.
And then the moment that my world stopped turning and my heart shattered into a million tiny pieces. . ."His white count is 196. . .I'm going to go call Primary Children's. . .you'll most likely be admitted tonight. . .it's probably leukemia." 4:24 pm.
At that moment in time, we became part of a club that we didn't want to be in. A club where they kill off all of your child's cells in order to kill of the bad ones. A club where words like transfusion, and platelets, and chemotherapy are commonplace. Understood. Tolerated. Prayed for with gratitude. The Leukemia Club. The you have a kid with cancer good luck figuring out how to make life work for your family now club.
Within an hour, Luke and McKayslin had been brought back to the hospital by President Acevedo. A blessing had been given to Kenton promising strength and recovery. An ambulance was en route to pick Kenton up and deliver him to PCMC. And he was going to have to go alone. We could follow him down in the car (which needed gas) but we had no clothes, no necessities, nothing ready. How do you get ready for something like this? 6:34 pm.
And then, our next miracle occurred - the ambulance arrived (6:45 pm) and they asked if I was going to ride down with Kenton. What?! That's not policy anymore! Tonight it was allowed. Encouraged even.
We gave hugs all around. 6:47 pm.
I really think this was harder on McKayslin than anyone else.
Her big brother, her protector, her hero was sick.
Her big brother, her protector, her hero was sick.
And no one could tell her that he was going to be better the next day.
There's nothing worse than seeing both of your children hurting and not being able to help either of them. :(
President Acevedo left to call Grammy and alert ward members, Luke and McKayslin left to go home and pack, and Kenton and I headed toward PCMC in an ambulance.
Photo taken heading up 4th south at 8:05 pm.
By 8:20 we had arrived and been escorted right to the 4th floor. ICS.
Cousin Drew had called to find out what we needed.
Cousin Jared was here within 10 minutes of us entering the room.
He's the one that held me together when the doctors were rapid firing words like leukemia, chemotherapy, treatment, inclusion, picc line, spinal tap, bone marrow aspirate at me. It was crazy.
Luke and McKayslin arrived around 10. Cousin Drew was here by then, too.
The doctors told Kenton he'd have surgery tomorrow.
It was for sure leukemia. They had to find out what kind. And then we'd discuss treatment options. He was soooo hungry. Hadn't eaten since lunchtime.
Cousin Jared went to Crown Burger and brought back a cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate shake. 10:34 pm.
Best smile I'd seen out of Kenton all day!
The "bouncers" left, Luke and McKayslin followed Drew to Nate's house to sleep.
There aren't even words to describe how grateful we are for President Acevedo dropping everything to help us in the middle of the afternoon (even if he did try to steal the consecrated oil from Logan Regional, lol). And how thankful and blessed we are to have such amazing cousins that instantly came to help during such a difficult time and who opened their homes to us so Luke and McKayslin would have a place to sleep and cousins to play with when they came to stay.
Kenton and I tried to settle in for the night.
All went well until he woke up around 2 am and threw up again.
He had a fever.
He was scared.
I was scared.
It was a pretty miserable night. . .
And, that, my friends, is day 1.
A day I wish I could forget, but know that I will always remember.