Hey Friends! I'm reclaiming my personal facebook page and will be posting all of Benny's updates here. I'm doing this for a few reasons:
1-Those who know me, know I like my privacy. After the Children's Leukemia Foundation posted Ben's pic last Monday (so cool), I got ~30 friend requests from strangers. I like for people to hear about Ben, pray for him, and to spread awareness about children's cancer. I don't like for strangers to know about everything (and everywhere and everyone).
2-I have a crazy neighbor. Time to adjust the privacy settings back to strict. Remind me to tell you this story next time I see you. :)
3-Some people (like friends of our parents and grandparents, colleagues and their friends and families, and entire congregations of churches we have never visited) have been following us and praying for us since February. They don't know me or Mike. This is a way for them to stay in the know. These people are our angels.
4-I wanted a way that Mike, mom and dad, and Richard and Kathy could post updates when I am too tired/sick/out of commission to do so. We are about to enter a phase where Benny will be hospitalized for inpatient care every other week. It's treacherous. But we have all pulled together and worked out a schedule so that I can work for most of the times he inpatient. They can all post in one place now!
5-I've seen how successful the Team Emerson page has been. Team Emerson has been an incredibly hopeful and happy place to "visit" each day. I was so afraid a page dedicated to Ben's illness would be a terribly sad place. But Team Emerson has shown me that positivity, joy, and even humor is possible. The Poindexter/Meredith Family is a huge blessing to us. (If you haven't "liked" their page yet, please do so. Cancer is evil, but it brings us all together in a special way. Love abounds where evil exists.)
6-I wanted to provide an opportunity for my personal facebook friends to opt out of pediatric cancer. I talk about it a lot. And it's freaking sad. And the constant reminders bum people out or take a toll, and I get it. Really. I totally get it. Now we can be friends and participate in each other's world without being bombarded with seriously sad stuff.
Thanks everyone for liking this page!
https://www.facebook.com/BenMorrisUpdates
Monday, June 24, 2013
Sunday, June 23, 2013
8 Things I Have Discovered So Far
It's been an incredible journey so far and we're nowhere near done. But here's 8 things I have discovered in the last three months.
8. Why not us? Instead of why me? Why us? Why him? I have begun to turn that around. The odds are not in our favor. But it's not a 100% death sentence, so that means SOMEONE out there survives this. Why not us?
7. Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming swimming swimming. Oh the things Pixar has taught me. Sometime you just have to go through the motions. When that time comes, it helps to hum a happy tune.
6. The alternative is unacceptable. Period. So I hold his little arms when getting poked. I make family, friends, and strangers alike sanitize. I make co-workers send me an e-mail instead of walking 20 feet to my desk if they're sniffly... just in case. I keep a ziploc baggie with a doctor's note and facemask in it just in case I get pulled over, so the officer won't freak out by our masks (and the necessity for him/her to wear one). I sign documents that state that I am aware that the "medicine" that they are about to shove into my child's blood is toxic, and might kill him. I do all of this stuff because I must. Because the alternative is unacceptable.
5. I am a crazy person, and that's okay. Those who love me, understand. Those who don't, well... point and laugh. I'm good with either of these scenarios.
4. I am surrounded by lovely people. Maybe it's because I am in the Midwest/Bible Belt/relatively small town. But the kindness of the people who surround me is downright weird. I thought the world was going to hell in a handbasket! It's all over facebook 24/7! (Thanks a lot, Obama.) But that is simply is not my experience.
3. Don't sweat the small stuff. Nothing like cancer to provide a healthy dose of perspective. Oh, that waitress screwed up your sandwich? Dude... it's a pickle. Flat tire on you way to an important meeting? Dude... send a photo text to your boss and then work on your tan while waiting on OnStar. After cancer, everything is "small stuff."
2. When in doubt, laugh. And try to get those around you smiling as well.
1. Don't eat hospital food... ever. You WILL pay the piper.
8. Why not us? Instead of why me? Why us? Why him? I have begun to turn that around. The odds are not in our favor. But it's not a 100% death sentence, so that means SOMEONE out there survives this. Why not us?
7. Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming swimming swimming. Oh the things Pixar has taught me. Sometime you just have to go through the motions. When that time comes, it helps to hum a happy tune.
6. The alternative is unacceptable. Period. So I hold his little arms when getting poked. I make family, friends, and strangers alike sanitize. I make co-workers send me an e-mail instead of walking 20 feet to my desk if they're sniffly... just in case. I keep a ziploc baggie with a doctor's note and facemask in it just in case I get pulled over, so the officer won't freak out by our masks (and the necessity for him/her to wear one). I sign documents that state that I am aware that the "medicine" that they are about to shove into my child's blood is toxic, and might kill him. I do all of this stuff because I must. Because the alternative is unacceptable.
5. I am a crazy person, and that's okay. Those who love me, understand. Those who don't, well... point and laugh. I'm good with either of these scenarios.
4. I am surrounded by lovely people. Maybe it's because I am in the Midwest/Bible Belt/relatively small town. But the kindness of the people who surround me is downright weird. I thought the world was going to hell in a handbasket! It's all over facebook 24/7! (Thanks a lot, Obama.) But that is simply is not my experience.
3. Don't sweat the small stuff. Nothing like cancer to provide a healthy dose of perspective. Oh, that waitress screwed up your sandwich? Dude... it's a pickle. Flat tire on you way to an important meeting? Dude... send a photo text to your boss and then work on your tan while waiting on OnStar. After cancer, everything is "small stuff."
2. When in doubt, laugh. And try to get those around you smiling as well.
1. Don't eat hospital food... ever. You WILL pay the piper.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)