I met a little girl and her dad on our very first visit to Addenbrooks, before the biopsy, just the day after Lola was diagnosed with cancer. The little girl had a sarcoma in her arm too but was a little further down the line and had just had surgery to remove the tumour. She was confident and happy and he was positive and kind. So kind that he recognised my shell-shocked, frightened look, took my number and that night he called me. He talked to me about the treatment, about feelings and about practical stuff too. He was really incredible. Something I held on to at that time, and has a real resonance now, is that he assured me that I would be surprised by the good things that came out of our experience. That is proving to be so true.
Having finished chemo on Friday, Lola was reluctant to attempt school today. I trust her instincts. She loves to be there, but knows her limits. We spent the day together wrapping presents, visiting the hospital for blood tests and (unsuccessfully) searching for a new coat for her ... and she is happy, tolerant and so open at the moment. October and November were spent treading on egg-shells sometimes. It was difficult to see her feel so wretched after treatment and accept that she needed to express her anxieties and frustrations, whilst still maintaining boundaries. The shock of seeing her looking so fragile and exhausted sometimes made it hard to step back and let her be, and equally hard to step in and draw the line.
Something has changed in the way she is responding to the chemotherapy this time. Perhaps her body is tolerating it more effectively, maybe the anti-sickness medication is well-matched to her needs, I suspect that the night-time feed increases her resilience... who knows? But she is coping so incredibly well and developing a calm understanding and self-awareness that is just lovely to be around. At the moment, life feels a little like 'normality' but with a constant awareness of how precious each of the 'normal' moments are. It's strange but good... for today.