Radiation therapy was vitally important to Ashleigh's survival. The fact that we had already lost valuable time and had gone through so much trauma before Ashleigh finally started her treatments, was extremely frightening to me.
As I mentioned in my previous post the entire game plan had changed. Receiving treatments twice a day was no longer an option. That concerned me deeply and I really worried about it. I was afraid that Ashleigh would not receive all of the radiation that she needed, that we had some how "blown it". But that wasn't the case at all... everything just had to be rearranged. In the original plan she would have undergone treatments for about six weeks, the new plan was going to take almost eight.
Because of the anesthesia Ashleigh couldn't eat or drink anything after midnight, so, her RT (radiation therapy) was scheduled early each morning. Every morning I woke up at 6:00 or sooner. I literally threw on my clothes (probably the clothes I had worn the night before) and picked up a sleeping Ashleigh from her bed. I wrapped her in her blanket and the two of us got into the car and headed for Salt Lake City. It was still very dark each morning when we left home and I was surprised at how much pre-dawn traffic was on the freeway. As I looked ahead or in my rear-view mirror all I could see were headlights and taillights coming and going in both directions.
Once we arrived at the hospital we were directed to the room that I described in my last post; the room where the treatment would take place. The Anesthesiologist was sometimes already there, or else on his way. I don't remember his name, but he was very kind to me and to Ashleigh. We still had to lay Ashleigh on the table and strap her into the papoose board, but once the mask was put over he nose and mouth she was quickly asleep. Then the technicians were able to arrange her head exactly as they wanted with the dots all lined up perfectly for the green beams to enter. Once everything was as it should be, we all left the room closing the big, heavy door and went into the room where we could watch her on the TV screen as the green beams were put into action. It only took a few minutes.
After the treatment was through, Ashleigh was taken upstairs to the surgical recovery room where we waited about 45 minutes for her to wake up. The staff there attended to her with much kindness and compassion. It was as if she had just come out of surgery every morning. She wore an oxygen mask as she slept and they kept warm blankets on her. The nurses were so kind to me also. So very compassionate. Every morning when we were finally able to leave I carried Ashleigh to the car. Sometimes we would take her oxygen masks home for the boys. I thought Jeremy would really enjoy that.
Most days when I arrived home the boys had already gone to school; Andy who was in Jr. High (7th grade) left home earlier than Jeff (5th grade) and Jeremy (2nd grade). Sometimes I got home just in time to see Jeff and Jeremy before they left for the day; but not always. Something that has been (very) hard for me in the years following Ashleigh's death, are thoughts of what did my sons go through during this time. Did I take care of them? Were they scared? Did they know how much I loved them? Were their needs met? I don't "go there" very often or "stay there" very long because it actually causes me a lot of pain and guilt. I will dedicate an entire future post on this subject.
I believe that each of the boys had the opportunity to go to RT with me and Ashleigh. Jeff went on more than one or two occasions. He was a little trooper. It really was comforting to have him there with me.
On one of our first mornings of RT I had a bit of a traumatic experience. We would have still been within the first month of finding out about Ashleigh's tumor. Quick review of the month from my position: I just found out that my youngest child (3 years old), my only daughter, had an inoperable brain tumor; she could have radiation therapy, but it would only buy us some time, in actuality... she had 1-2 years to live; following surgery she had several unsuccessful attempts at RT; now she was successfully having RT, but only because she was receiving anesthesia on a daily basis in order to have her treatments... and I'm just giving the basic facts here; there is so much more.
That morning as Ashleigh and I drove to SLC in rush hour traffic before the sun had even risen, she got out of her seat and started acting up. Now I just mentioned all that I was going through... imagine all she was going through at that time. She tried to climb between the two front seats and wouldn't cooperate when I told her to sit down. I drove with my left arm as I braced my right arm across the seats so she couldn't get through. In one of my earlier posts on this blog I explained that Ashleigh had exhibited some behaviors that weren't normal for her; this was one of those moments. In her frustration she clamped down on my arm with her mouth in a bite like I've never experienced in my life. The pain was excruciating, but it was nothing like the pain that coursed through my heart. At that moment all of the pain, fear, grief, anxiety, guilt, sorrow, unhappiness... came spewing from my mouth in a scream that even I couldn't believe I was hearing. I wasn't screaming at Ashleigh... I was just screaming in anguish. It was as if I were all alone for an instant and it just all.came.out. Ashleigh let go of my arm and slumped back into her seat without a sound. I don't know how long I screamed and ranted and sobbed, but by the time I reached the hospital I had it "all together" again and we went inside.
I'll never forget the Anesthesiologist that morning as he escorted the two of us to the room. His eyes were filled with compassion as he kindly asked me if I was okay, I'm sure my face looked terrible and I had a huge bruise, complete with a full set of teethmarks on my arm.
After Ashleigh's second week of RT was finished, we had our first post surgery follow-up with Dr. Wright at PCMC. When Dr. Wright discovered that Ashleigh was receiving anesthesia on a daily basis in order to receive her treatments, she quickly put an end to that. Everything had been going so well... but Dr. Wright said that Ashleigh shouldn't have to go through that every day, so now a new plan was in the works... and it was going to get a lot worse before it got better.
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6 comments:
I am just now catching up with reading your last couple of posts. I am tearfully thinking that if we didn't know the eternal reward, all these would seem so excruciatingly unfair. Thank you for your example of courage and faith, Les.
I don't really even know what to say, and almost clicked out of the comment area. But I know you like comments. So all I'll mention is how blessed I feel to have someone as wonderful as you as a friend. Love you. xx
I find myself reading this blog at times not wanting to read on. It's just too close to home as I have an almost three year old precious girl. I feel however, it is important to read on. I can't imagine what it must be like to write it, let alone live through it. Thank you for your story. I'm grateful you and Uncle Mike, Andy, Jeff, Jeremy, Ashleigh, Caitlin, and their families are a part of my family.
Loved you then, love you now. My Precious girl
Okay, I just read these last two posts. I am at school and hiding behind the computer so the students can't see me cry!! Your courage and love are amazing. What a painful time and painful memories. I couldn't help but think of the timing of these posts and the fact we are nearing Easter. I am so grateful for the Atonement that heals those things that don't seem they can be healed. What brave souls both you and Mike and Ashley and the boys have been through all of this. I can see through your lives that you have held on to the Atonement to get to where you are!!
Love you!!
Oh Leslie! Such heartache you had to endure!! My heart aches for you and all you went through.
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