It Begins

Last night, Pogo was crying in her sleep, so Dennis and I took her to the doctor today. The only thing he could do for her was put her on pain medication. He examined her and said that judging by her pain level, reflexes and other outcomes of the exam, she didn’t have long.
For those of you who have been reading my blog on and off for the past few years, you probably remember when this happened before. This time is different. This time we have an unlimited refills on prescription pain drugs. This time, Pogo knows she’s sick, sicker than before. This time, mommy and daddy cried in the doctor’s office. She knows, she feels it, it’s different.
I sat outside for a little while tonight, and wondered. What in existence makes it justifiable for a ten year old little girl to have terminal cancer. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Pogo was supposed to get well. She was supposed to grow up, go to prom, get married, have a family of her own. She was supposed to go to nursing school. She was supposed to change the world. Now…? The future is blurry. She knows she’s sick. She knows she’s not going to get well. Worst of all, she knows her parents have failed her.

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