It was that when the treatment was all complete and we moved on with life - and to have faith that we WOULD finish and be able to move on – that we would have to live with the person we created during treatment. Treat her normal and the same as we would any of our other kids.

We took that to heart.

We watched untold families show relentless favoritism and saw sibling that were ignored and forgotten.

I’d love to say that our kids never suffered at all for Peyton being sick.  They did.

I’d be proud to say I never caved and gave in to Peyton’s every little whim. I’d be a big liar-liar-pants-on-fire though.

I AM happy to say that years after the treatment is over, these are little people you can actually enjoy being around. ALL of  them.

We did what that that doctor said. We completed treatment. We left treatment behind us. We kept our kids the same kids they always were.

There was a time in the hospital when I couldn’t do for myself. Others did for me.

Then came the time the time when they started to teach me that *I* could still do things for myself.

Since that time, everything has been a lesson in strength, endurance or independence.

People could have done things for me and made my life easier but it didn’t make things better.

I chose to do things the hard way. Do things for myself. Come up with my own solutions. Ask for help when I need it and be thankful when I got it.

There’s no shame in the word INSPIRATIONAL.

There, I said it. I didn’t choke.

There are people around me who inspire me with their candor, bravery, wit, wisdom, creativity, humor, genius and capacity for MORE.

Don’t ever think I’m inspirational because I didn’t die.

That sort of makes me Harry Potter. Not Hermione, the smartest girl and hardest worker. Not Ron, the friend with the most loyal heart and action in the face of fear. I’m Harry, the one that didn’t die.

Every day you open your eyes and you are as good as Harry Potter. You have not died.

YAY YOU.

You have the rest of your day to inspire someone.

If you want to donate you can use the widget below, the money will be deposited into MY paypal and I will get the Winthrow family via Visa Gift Card.

If anyone wonders why I’m so passionate about giving to Felicity and her family, here was my daughter Peyton when she was was a toddler and in chemotherapy.

DONATE HERE

if you don’t donate hornets will sting your nipples! Probably.

From our house to the hospital it was over an hour and a half drive.

Totally worth it, when it’s your child.

Part of Peyton’s “roadmap” called for her to undergo cranial radiation.

This raised several difficulties:

• daily hospital trips for the radiation at the hospital OVER AN HOUR AWAY
• proximity to hospital if there were complications
• she still had to undergo her normal chemo routine

We were lucky that right by our hospital was, not one, but two Ronald McDonald Houses.

We were able to reserve a stay at the RMH that allowed us to:

• make our own meals every night (each family was given pantry & fridge space)
• do laundry (there w/d available whenever you needed them)
• have guests (friends came to visit and the family came on the weekends)

There were so many reasons to make this time as less-traumatic as possible, but the main thing is what you see in that picture.  (THAT ONE)

Every day they strapped MY BABY to a table with that piece of plastic HOLDING HER HEAD IN PLACE.

THEN I HAD TO LEAVE.

Leave.

In that room, strapped to that table, with that mask on her face.  Alone.

It was bad for her every day.

It was bad for me too.

We made it through our time.

It’s year behind us.

But I never forget leaving that hospital and after Peyton went to sleep every day, I cried.

For her fear.

For not being able to make it go away.

Then I dried up those tears and we had our RMH fun.

“Join Us for 1” is rooted in the foundation of our Charity; it all started with one.  One child who needed health care.  One family who hoped to stay nearby.  One community who came together to build the very first Ronald McDonald House.  And now, one person, one penny at a time can make a difference. So, throughout the month of June we are asking our loyal supporters, to “Join Us for 1” on July 1.

1.      Learn more about this campaign and the meaning of the number one by visiting our website and clicking on the red navigation bar at the bottom of the page. Or by reading the attached press release.

2.      “Join RMHC for 1” on July 1 by adding just one penny to our RMHC Donation Box at your local McDonald’s. Bring your friends, family and coworkers with you and make it a fun activity for all!

3.      Encourage your Facebook fans, network of supporters, and site visitors to RSVP for “Join Us for 1” on the RMHC Facebook event page.

**Side note = for every Happy Meal you buy, a portion of sales is donated to the Ronald McDonald Houses everywhere.

Really hard.

Yesterday, Peyton had her first appointment at the SURVIVORSHIP CLINIC.

Oncology, Endocrinology, Psychology, Neurology, Research, and simple lab work.

Peyton’s doing great, she’s wonderfully healthy and we talked about a few issues that I knew were over her head.

Then one doctor got on a subject I knew Peyton was going to understand.

She discussed BMI, sedentary lifestyle, being overweight, how bad school lunches were for THEM….you know…THEM….the morbidly obese kids who bodies haven’t been through hell.

You know, kids like her:

The ones you hoped weren’t paying attention.

Then you’re at Trader Joe’s and she says,

“That doctor thought I was chubby”

Really?

REALLY?

R.E.A.L.L.Y.

I need my 7yo, who SURVIVED 2.5 YEARS OF CHEMOTHERAPY and CRANIAL RADIATION to worry about her weight, when I’m just thankful she doesn’t still look like:

I’m thankful for every day that we get together.

No matter what her diet.

When that doctor’s child has had cancer (something I wouldn’t wish on my worse enemy), then she can talk.

**I called the Aflac Cancer Center at CHOA Scottish Rite and talked about how hurtful and upsetting (to the patients & parents) that talk could be. It could be handled a damn bit better. I hope no more parents have to face explaining how stupid doctor’s can be to a child. **