Sunday, July 30, 2006
An ironman race consists of: 4 mile swim, followed by a 112 mile bike ride and then a full 26.2 mile marathon. Wow! It's a difficult thing, a feat that takes as much mental strength and focus as physical fitness. I could never do that.
Know what? He wore one of our G & S bracelets during the race.
I've been told (and not by Steve directly) that when he was feeling really sick on the course, when his body was hurting and he wanted to stop, he would look at that bracelet and think, "This isn't that hard."
I'm so touched that our little bauble can be such a source of comfort and inspiration for others, and that by sharing our story we are Helping Other People Everyday.
Congratulations, Steve! And thanks for showing us that ordinary people can do amazing things when they set their minds to it.
(Sydney is away, spending a week at her great-aunt's home in Thornbury--we expect her to return thoroughly spoiled and sold out of bracelets. Georgia is here, revving up for a week with Daddy, raising cain and repeating every new word she hears.)
Friday, July 28, 2006
Her friend Nikki will be starting a 24 hour blogathon tomorrow to raise money for childhood cancer research.
Georgia will be one of the children featured during her blogathon (I think at 2 am on Sunday).
For families in Ontario, Canada who are fighting cancer (anyone in the family, not just children), there is an organization called Cottage Dreams that matches up families with cottages, to give them some time away together. Pass it on.
Syd & Scott went to the Hilary Duff concert in Toronto the other evening. They took the train and had a great adventure in the big city. Our friends at the James Fund arranged for better seats during the concert (thanks!), but we weren't able to arrange for Syd to meet Ms. Duff and give her a bracelet. It didn't matter to Sydney--she had a wonderful time and arrived home exhausted.
Taking Georgia and our pooch Charlie to a party at the lake tomorrow--photos will follow :)
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Thursday, July 20, 2006
We’ve seen kindness of every type from our family and friends, who looked after Sydney when we had to travel, made us meals or simply listened when we needed to talk. Strangers have taken up the cause of our beautiful little girls, befriended us and given us incredible hope and courage. Other families who are fighting this terrible disease, and many who have lost children to it, have given us their time, their support and their love.
And in the middle of it all, Georgia continues to grow and develop. The scars on her abdomen are fading, but I’ll always see them.
Georgia had her six month MRI yesterday. The day started with a whimper, when Scott gently awakened me and explained that I’d set my alarm wrong and missed our early wake up by an hour. Instead of arriving at the hospital by 7:30 am, we couldn’t hope to be there before 8:30. We all piled into the minivan and dropped Sydney off at my parent’s place. Georgia complained bitterly about her imminent state of starvation when she caught me sneaking a cereal bar, but she didn’t mind missing out on the coffee.
We were whisked right into the pre-anesthetic area in the MRI department and Georgia was set upon by two nurses and two doctors. She put up with all the probing and prodding with a bemused expression. She barely spoke, and she didn’t object to the gown. She seemed almost resigned to it, or maybe she’s forgotten our previous dozen visits there (hopefully). It’s nice that she cooperates, but I would almost rather see her fighting and complaining and getting ready to take somebody down with her.
I put her on the table, held her hand and kissed her face while she inhaled the gas, and then came the worst moment of every visit—I turned my back on my baby and walked away. Even freshly brewed Starbucks coffee tastes bitter when your baby is asleep down the hall at the mercy of a huge, loud, metal machine.
A little over an hour later, we were reunited with our groggy, ravenous child. She bounced back incredibly quickly. We left the MRI department at 10:30 and by 12:15, she was in the deli of the IKEA chowing down on a hot dog and fries.
We saw Dr. Cook in the afternoon for a quick examination. Everything looks good. No MRI results yet. We’ll let you know.
Sydney has been doing a ton of fundraising, writing thank you notes and making appearances. A couple of stores in Kingston have approached us and asked if they can sell bracelets. Her total raised for the James Fund is now over $10,000. We are so proud of this little girl, who has taken such a difficult time in our lives and given it such positive energy.
I’ll finish with the thought I repeat to myself every time I walk away from my sleeping baby:
If God came to me and told me I could choose to give away the cancer, but I would have to give up the child and take another, what would I do? I’d tell him ‘no, thanks’. I wouldn’t give up my precious G and her toothy smile and her ‘doo-doo’ and her innie-outie belly button, not in a million years. Not ever.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Last Friday, there was a fundraiser at a local company--in honour of Sydney and Georgia, with proceeds donated to The James Fund.
Victor Campbell shaved his almost-waist-length hair:
And then, the boss (Steve Wright), shaved his head, too:
We were all there to watch and cheer, and snack on the wonderful lunch buffet:
Georgia is feeling fine these days. Mom's blood pressure is going up a little again, because our next MRI check is on July 19th.
Sydney was bubbly and gorgeous and helpful as usual. And we got this great photo of the bracelets in action: