Overdue Update

Well, I should have written this over a month a go.

Last time I wrote, Ollie had just been given the one year all clear. Well, we've since been in again for a checkup, and I'm pleased to say that he continues to bring smiles to the faces of doctor Angela and the nurses and staff on 3b for more reasons than just being adorable. he is a strong, boisterous and talkative bundle of energy. He will be 3 years old in two weeks - so very hard to believe. It's probably time we started to consider pre-school.

We also took a trip to visit Dr Lindsay Adams, the paediatrician who first joined all the dots and sent us to 3b in the first place. We didn't go for anything specific, just to touch base. If Oliver get's sick again Lindsay will be our first stop, although one of the GP's in the practice we frequent (not our GP though) is fabulous with him. Anyway, we had been meaning to go and see Lindsay and to thank him for identifying Oliver's predicament for some time. I think he was glad to see how well Oliver was, and was genuinely happy for us and to receive the card we gave him. Thanks Dr Lindsay - you may have just been doing your job in your eyes, but in our eyes you saved our little boy.

It's been over a month since I returned from France where I was one of 19 climbers to attempt the summit of Mont Blanc as part of a fundraiser for the children's cancer ward at PMH. Initially, when asked how it was, I had been telling people 'It was good, but...' Now, I've changed to 'It was a dismal failure!' We didn't make the summit due to high winds (65km/h+ I believe), low cloud (making for very limited visibility on a fairly steep ridge), and some fairly sick team mates who really needed to get back down. I was absolutely gutted when we were turned around. I had pinned my hopes on making the summit and doing something concrete for my little boy and our little friends. I wanted so much to fly my flags on top - Ollie, Tom (and the Keenan clan), Immie (who passed away on May 1), Evie (who passed away only 3 days prior to our summit attempt), and the kids on 3b who placed their names and hand prints on a big 3b flag. I know in my head it doesn't make sense, but in my heart I was again left helpless and at the mercy of something much larger than me. Most importantly, of course, thanks to the generosity and hard work of the other climbers and everyone that supported our fundraising efforts, we have raised over $800,000, with the aim of hitting $1 million by the time we hit Christmas and stop fundraising for this specific event. Thankyou so much to everyone who has given so very generously.

You know what, I could go on, but I won't. I struggle with long blog entries, so I'll leave this one here, and I'll be back soon.

I had photo's, but the website doesn't want to let me load them up.

Sweet Relief

Sorry for not writing sooner.

Last Wednesday, we were back in at PMH to receive the results from Oliver's 12-month post-treatment CT and PET scans. Our amazing little man is still clear of any cancer, and must now only have a finger prick blood test each time we head back in, which will be progressively less over the coming years.

I was surprised by the amount of relief the results gave me. Oliver has been so very well over the last 12 months, and in fact has effectively been cancer free for the majority of his treatment. I didn't realise how much his cancer sat on my shoulder, taunting me, whispering in my ear 'maybe that sniffle is because of me' - 'he's not looking so crash hot, maybe I'm back'. But Oliver continues to go from strength to strength, from cheekiness to cheekiness.


I adore my son. Yes, I am so very biased, but he is the cutest, funniest, most intelligent and sharp little boy I know. Tonight as he fought going to bed, he cried from his room - ' Mummy. Daddy. I need some milk.' When we didn't respond, he didn't keep calling out for it, he matter-of-factly said ' You're supposed to give me some milk.' As if to say, I've asked for it, it's your job to give me what I want.

I love that he asks me to sing to him - to sing 'Morningtown'. This is a song I hoped he would grow to love - a lullaby about little boys and girls snuggling in to bed on a train trip to Morningtown. Now, he sits on my lap as I rock him back and forth, and we sing together. I feel as if I could hold him forever.

And so now, our lives go on. Oliver will continue to grow and charm his way through life, oblivious to this chapter until a time when he can maybe comprehend it. Karli and I will continue to struggle with putting this experience behind us, to not listen to the voice in our heads saying 'MAYBE, JUST MAYBE!' To free our beautiful little boy from being our baby with cancer, and to let him be a little boy - no labels, no past, just a bright and unwritten future for us to encourage and support him through.

I have said it before, and I will say it again. Thankyou for your support. For your prayers, your meals, your generous gifts, your encouraging words. Thankyou for enabling us to be able to focus all of our energy on our son.

In 4 weeks I will be off to France with 19 others as we attempt to climb Mont Blanc and raise money for the children's cancer ward at PMH, but that can be another blog.

What's going down in Roebucktown

It is now 2 years and 10 days since Oliver received his diagnosis. We are back in to PMH on Thursday for his 12 month post-treatment CT scan, then off to Charlie's for his PET scan next Wednesday. Then it's back in to PMH the next week for the results, and then we start a new leg in our journey. We will still have 3 monthly checkups for a while, but no more scans for at least 4 years, if they're going to be necessary ever again.

I must admit, there is still some trepidation going in for his scans, always a little uneasiness, but we have no reason to think that our little man will give any cause for concern. That said, we recently had to pay a GP a visit about a rash Oliver had developed, and he informed us of cutaneous lymphoma. Needless to say, he was tested and come back clean.

We have all just returned from 3 weeks in Albany. I had a nursing prac placement down there, so it seemed like an ideal opportunity to have a break, for karli to catch up with friends, and Oliver to spend time with his Oma, without having to squeeze it all into a weekend. It didn't all pan out as we had hoped, but it was nice to get away, and equally nice to be back home.

I am now officially 1 year into my course. My grades were (mostly) great this last semester, and I am enjoying my study and the time spent in a more clinical setting on the wards. I'm dropping a unit this coming semester to give us all some breathing space and be able to be more available to Karli and Oliver, plus I will be able to work more too.

In September I'm off to France to climb Mont Blanc. I am part of a team who are climbing in order to raise money for Ward 3B at Princess Margaret Hospital - the children's cancer ward. Less than 8 weeks to go. I'm really excited about getting into the mountains, and am looking forward to spending some time with the team I'll be climbing with. As part of my fundraising efforts, Noel - my mother in law, has organised a quiz night on 21st August (our federal election), so unless you're keen to sit around and watch while they count the votes, I'd love to see you there. If you can't make it but would still like to support me, please follow the links on the side of the page. All of the funds are going directly to 3B for a 3D molecular imaging machine to improve treatment of brain tumors. It's an expensive piece of machinery, but I'm confident we can raise the necessary funds.

Not much else is happening for us. Oops, almost forgot to update you on the monkey.

In my sandpit at home. Thanks for the shade Oma.

Oliver is a medicine ball of energy - those of you that see him regularly know why I've written medicine ball. No, he's not fall of medicine, but he's a pretty hefty little package. He is doing everything a little boy should do - he loves his cars and trucks and trains, he loves to throw things, he loves being loud, he loves his sand pit, he loves the park, he loves the playground, he gives great squeezie cuddles, and he knows his mind. His language skills are fabulous, though he can be a little difficult to understand sometimes - but then he isn't yet 3. He's not so fond of using his potty, but he is using it, and we are getting some measure of success. Two and a half years and we are still celebrating poo's.

My bath at Oma's.

Recently, he has been having monster issues at night, and he tells us that some things on the TV scare him - like Lightning McQueen and Mater going tractor tipping in 'Cars', or gopher in 'Winnie the Pooh', or when it gets dark at night on 'Chuggington'. So comforting cuddles are the order of most days, and 'monster' spray has also been useful at night before bed.

In my sandpit at Oma's.

I love to sit and watch him. I wonder what goes through his little head. I feel sad that we have been unable to get him into a regular group where he can play with other children his size (well, his age at least). And I hope that in his little heart he feels safe and secure in the arms of his mum and dad - even though he's usually pretty squirmy.

I still love my books.

I'll try to get Karli to write a bit over the next few days so you can get a take on our life through her eyes. Thanks for listening. Thanks for following our journey.

Sadness

Yesterday was Imogen Holmes' funeral. I have never attended the funeral of someone so young before. The bright colours and t-shirts bearing various cartoon characters seemed appropriate. Dad, Jason, wore a bright green t-shirt with Tom & Jerry. Big brother, Kody, wore a bright yellow Sponge-Bob t-shirt. Me, I had a bright red t-shirt that had a Ben 10 patch sewn onto it (you can't buy Ben10 t-shirts in my size - even though I'm not that big). Butterfly's were released, with one appropriately landing on the family and hanging around - maybe it was Immie. Balloons were released en masse by everyone present. It was spectacular. There were so many people. And it was terribly sad.

I stood at the gravesite behind a little boy, maybe 4 years old, with his mum and two older brothers. I don't think he stopped crying. I've never witnessed such sadness in someone so young. I don't want to witness it again. Later, one of his brothers remarked that this little boy had cried all the way in the car. Why does a small child have to know such grief? I wonder what impact it has on such a small life, to have known and understood such sadness at such a young age.

I spoke to Jason briefly after the funeral. I shook his hand, gave him a man hug, and said "I've got nothing to say." "There's nothing to say", replied Jason. "Just look after your little boy." "I will", I said, as we parted company. "But that's not going to bring back your little girl" I wanted to scream. "I want my little boy to learn to be cheeky from the master! I want him to know Immie! I want him to ask to go see 'Imja'."

As Oliver played in "Imogen's Castle" at the wake, he was calling out for her. Each night, when we ask him who he would like to pray for, 'Imja' always rates a mention.

The loss of such a young, vibrant, bright life is something I cannot comprehend.

God bless you 'Imja'. Keep watch over us. Keep watch over my little boy. And, yes, you can encourage him to be cheeky too.

Sunglasses at Night

You know the song and here's our picture. I love our little dancing man.

Heartbreak & Hope

This weekend I was team captain for a team in the Relay For Life, a fundraising event for the Cancer Council.

As I was about to get a snooze in before the Relay For Life started, we received the heartbreaking news that our beautiful little friend Immie had passed away.

We have watched in joy and sadness as Immie has overcome her cancer, only for it to re-emerge again and again, until there was finally nothing that could be done. Immie has become progressively more ill since Christmas as her family have done all they can to make her final days as enjoyable as they could be for her, amidst her pain and sickness.

Immie had her birthday party 3 weeks ago. It was held 2 weeks early, in the fear that she would not be able to see her 6th. But brave, strong, bossy little Immie kept right on marching. She almost seemed to be improving - and we hoped for a miracle. But it was not to be. On Saturday morning, at 1:19, Immie lost her battle. She was 6 years old.

One of the motto's for Relay For Life is "Hope is why we relay". I found little to hope for, other than that I wouldn't become a blubbering mess in the middle of the track. Part of the Relay For Life is a Candlelighting service to remember those who are no longer with us. You can decorate a paper bag and place a candle in it to burn through the night. This is the one I did for Immie.

I never was much of an artist

Oliver blowing kisses to Immie's candle.

Our hearts go out to Fiona & Jason, and big brother Kody, and little brother Ashton, and the family that has supported them so much in these dark days. Though it was known to be coming, it doesn't make it any easier.

This is one of Immie's pictures. It seems to say so much, and be such an amazing insight by a beautiful little girl. The rain is obvious, but if you look, there is a sun still shining, and flowers still smiling. The paradox of life both confounds and intrigues me - and Immie's picture captures the lives we lead.

Goodbye sweet Imogen. You will be in our hearts and minds always.

Immie's mum's blog

http://theholmesgang.blogspot.com

It's Easter

It's Easter.

A time for lots of chocolate and family. On Friday we will join Nanna, Grandad and Oliver in Busselton (they're going down tomorrow). Oliver's first chocolate filled, chemo free Easter. Easter egg hunts, time with Nanna and Grandad, walks on the beach, and we might even get him to eat some icecream. Soon all of his firsts will be over as we head towards 1 year from his end-of-treatment.

It's Easter.

A time to remember redemption through sacrifice and pain. Our little man has known it, and we will celebrate our vibrant, strong little boy. It is a time of hope and joy.

It's Easter.

On Saturday our beautiful little friend Imogen will celebrate her 6th birthday a few weeks early. Imogen will tell you it's her 13th birthday, so she can be older than her brother. Her parents prayer? - that Imogen will be free of pain and tiredness for the 2 hours of her birthday party - from 10-12 on Saturday.

It's Easter.

While we will be enjoying our time with our healthy and happy little boy, Immie will hopefully be enjoying her Easter aswell. Our hope is that the easter bunny, or someone, will give her back her sparkle; and that Immie's angel days are far, far away.

It's Easter.

I hope.

http://theholmesgang.blogspot.com

Roebuck's Reporting For Duty

I can't believe it's been over 3 months since I have written. SO many good intentions, so little follow through. But I'm here to make good and let you know how our little family is getting on.

Painting with mum.

So much has happened over the last few months - so much happens over a week.

Since Oliver's birthday over 4 months ago our little baby boy has become more of a little boy and less of a baby. He can tell you want he wants, what he can see, what he likes, and even that he loves you. He can even tell his daddy to go away. He has begun to better coordinate his movements to get a bit of a run going, and is more than capable of climbing a ladder and sliding down a slide with skill. We've even been kite flying.

As you can see, we have introduced him to paint, and we have a number of lovely pictures as a result. This week was Oliver's second week at playgroup and from all reports he is fitting in great and loving it. Though not the tallest, Karli tells me his definitely the biggest one there - I'd like to think he is the gentle giant of sorts. It will be interesting to watch him as he gets more familiar and gains more confidence with the other kids. Oliver has also been going to creche during church, so he is slowly getting the hang of playing with others - though not always that keen if mum and dad aren't around.

Tonight he is at Nanna and Grandad's. The last couple of times I've dropped him off he hasn't been happy for me to leave - which is unusual. We think it might have something to do with the fact that I see him less now that I am back at uni. It's both heartbreaking and heartwarming to know that he doesn't want me to go, since he is so fond of telling me to go away whenever he wants his mum.

As I said, I am back at uni again. It is going to be a busy 18 months ahead with few breaks. Mix in to that a couple of fundraising activities I have become involved in (more on those later) and life is a little hectic at the moment. What can you do?

With Mark & Lisa

Over Christmas we had a visit from some friends from Mark & Lisa, some friends from Red Deer, Alberta in Canada. We haven't seen them since leaving Calgary in late 2005, and they haven't changed a bit. I hope we can get back to them before Mark retires from his job - he's a fireman and so works with some very big trucks that I know our little man would love to see them. I can just hear him now - "WOW!"

Pulling out the pea plants.

Holiday in Queensland.

We headed east for 2 weeks in January to attend a friends wedding and visit Uncle Gordon, Aunty Tarn, Tyran and Jyden. It was a very relaxing time, though Oliver wasn't all that keen to go down for a sleep whenever it was time. By the end of our break he was starting to lose his voice as a result of the protests he made. He flew very well. 5ish hours on a plane make anyone a bit fidgety. We spent our time watching Hi-5, colouring in, playing with playdough, and re-reading the same story. We were hoping he would fall asleep on the flight home, but no such luck - until we touched down in Perth where he proceeded to go straight to sleep before we got off the plane.

Almost forgot to fill you in on the other important stuff. A new set of scans were done in January - 6 months post treatment. PET scan, CT scan and a chest xray. Although there were a couple of areas that piqued Dr Angela's interest, the commencement of his immunisations the week before and the closeness of the scans explained everything that caused her any concern. He certainly doesn't seem any worse for wear. Next week will be the first time we have gone in for a check-up since those scans. We are slowly able to increase the time we can spend away from PMH. SAdly, some of our friends have spent increasing amounts of time back on the ward, and we have also met the dad of a new battler.

There's more to fill you in on, but for now I will bid you farewell, and pledge to write again within the next few days. Here are some more photo's of our rapidly growing little boy.

Cool.

The End.