Phoebe and her super Daddy, home safe.

Today I wrapped my girls' gifts from Santa. I hid them out of sight and then I cried. I cried for the Christmas that we are supposed to have this year. The one with my family together under one roof, healthy and free from cancer.

Today I am hating cancer more than most. If that is even possible.

My thoughts are full of cancer. I read about cancer, I dream about cancer. Cancer is once again, running my life. It is not enough to have wonderful doctors who care fully and completely for Phoebe, I need to read and to know that they have and are uncovering every stone. And right now, sadly, there seems to be very few stones to uncover.

I have too many questions in my head that I am afraid to ask, and I still feel like one of these days I am going to wake up from this nightmare.

Cancer, is an ugly and hateful monster and I honestly don't think I have the words in my vocabulary to truly give justice to what this is like. To what it is like to be faced with fighting Leukemia a third time with a child who to everyone who sees her, appears perfectly healthy.

But then there it is, the key to all of this. Phoebe is, as usual, defying odds and I am full of hope that she will continue to do this. That she will continue to laugh in the face of cancer. And she literally is laughing ... everyday and most of the day she laughs. 

Jon and Phoebe have finally returned from Toronto. It only took 5 hours to fly from Toronto to Ottawa (you might note a wee bit of sarcasm). Those who are from the area will know that this is typically a one hour flight and it was. Phoebe was picked up by ambulance, taken to her private and tiny plane, they flew to Ottawa and the flight was bumpy, scary bumpy, and while everyone on the flight was close to losing their lunch, Phoebe was laughing. When I asked her about the plane, she said Weeeeeee!! After the flight they waited in the airport during flu season for another ambulance to pick up. They waited for an hour before Jon called 911. Yes, he called 911. He was concerned about the giant plane full of people about to head their way and frustrated by the waiting in a crowded airport during flu season, with an immuno compromised Phoebe. It seemed to work because their ambulance arrived shortly afterwards. 

So, here's to Phoebe's Daddy, who is always doing what he can to keep her safe. 

We are now back at CHEO, settled into our room with the walls that desperately need to be painted and we are preparing for a Christmas spent in the hospital. As long as we are together, it really doesn't matter where we are and we will make wonderful memories here as we would at home, but we are hopeful for a chance to take Phoebe home, even just for a few hours, so she can see her Christmas tree. 

Phoebe is here and for that we are blessed. Next year will be our year, for a Christmas without cancer.

Next year will be our year.