“I know…”

Kids know.  They have instincts adults have lost.  Never underestimate the power of a kid.  (This was written a few weeks ago, and I am just now getting to adding it here.)

I know that my daughter is a smart girl.  I know that she is in so many ways wise beyond her years, but I never cease to be amazed by her instincts, and her ability to read people – especially her family.

She knows that we share a genetic link and that we both have the same – Cowden’s Syndrome.  She knows that we tend to grow things.  She knows about her own AVMs, and that she has some thyroid “bumps” we are watching.

I am guarded but honest when I speak to her.  It is important when you have a child who is sick so often that they trust you.  I learned there is no way to lie to her and keep her trust.  So, I answer the questions she asks, using as few words as possible, and I always stay honest.

That is why I was floored a few nights ago.  She has been having a hard time with her knee again.  In the middle of a not so common, depressive episode she complained for a while about her knee, and the permanence of the pain and swelling.  She was frustrated, and she is allowed – so I held her as she cried.

What floored me was what happened next.  She grabbed onto my shoulders and looked me in the eye.  She said “I know…”  I said, “What do you know?”  She said, “Cowden’s makes it more likely for us to get cancer.  You had cancer once and you were ok.  Are you going to have it again?  Is that why you had your other surgery (the hysterectomy?)”

I swallowed hard, intent to stay focused.  “I don’t know,” I told her.  “I don’t think so.  We just took this stuff out to be safe.”

She looked at me with those tired eyes.  She looked at me for a long time.  She held me tightly and said, “I don’t like leaving you ever – even for school.”

Holding her as tightly as I could, I said, “I know…”

Collateral Damage

Collateral Damage (film)
Collateral Damage (film) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Collateral damage occurs when something incidental to the intended target is damaged during an attack. (Wikipedia)

 

I don’t think it’s far-fetched to equate Cowden’s Syndrome to a war.

Our bodies are under attack.  This PTEN (tumor suppressor gene) is broken, and we are being bombarded with cellular overgrowth in the form of all sorts of tumors – benign and malignant. 

We spend our days, (and some of our nights) strategizing on how to prevent, fight, or get rid of these tumors.

It can be an all-consuming job.

When we have to have the tumors removed there is the recovery time, which can seem endless.  The battle scars, which forever change the landscape of our bodies also take some getting used to.

There is the financial drain, from lost wages, and the endless battles of medical bills are a war onto themselves.

There is also the  battle of trying to feel well all the time, while convincing people that this is a legitimate illness, and you really are sick.

This is a war my daughter and I are fighting together.  Each on our own road, but we are battling the same enemy.

Like in every war it is inevitable that there is collateral damage.

Haughton play park 20070602
Haughton play park 20070602 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

  Today was the 3rd grade play at my daughter’s school.  It was also “Family Fun Day,”  where the parents and children in the entire 3rd grade head to a local park and spend 3 hours chatting, playing and sharing a picnic lunch.

It was about 82 and sunny here today.  The weather hasn’t been this perfect in weeks.

And I, I was at work.  My daughter was at “Family Fun Day” with some very caring mothers of the friends she has in her class.

How is this all connected?  Very easy.

If I were not me, fighting Cowden’s Syndrome, and all its ramifications, and taking care of a girl who is also fighting it… maybe I could have been there.

Instead, I missed 4 days of work for her AVM surgery, 24 days for my double mastectomy, 12 days for my hysterectomy, and when there are only 183 school days in the year, you can see the percentages aren’t good.

I got permission to go in an hour late.  I got in to see the dress rehearsal of the show.  I stole 10 minutes on my lunch to drive by the park.  And I spent the whole day thinking how nice it would have been to just take a personal day and hang with my kid.

She is such a good girl.  “Don’t worry Mommy, I understand.  I am so glad you are feeling better, and I know you need to get back to work.  Maybe next year we will all have less surgeries, and then you can come?”

Collateral damage – my girl having to grow up so damned fast.

I really do hate this disease.

Cloudy With a Chance of… Puberty?

Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs

So, last night after we left the endocrinologist‘s office, I couldn’t shake this book.  “Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs.”  If you are not familiar with the story, basically in the town of Chewandswallow they get their meals from the sky.  They never  quite know what’s coming, but three times a day it rains things like juice… or meatballs.  Eventually this starts to become a problem for them, as the portions get larger and more unpredictable.  It is a cute story, worth a read if you have a little one.  But nothing I want to model my LIFE after!

This was the long awaited appointment for my 8 year old.  The one who has been showing all the signs of precocious puberty.  She has grown 5 inches in the last several months, lost almost all her baby teeth, grown 2 shoe sizes and now at 8 yrs, 9  months, stands 4 foot 9.  This is the appointment where we were going to get the results from the testing, and she was supposed to tell me that the blood in fact confirmed the early start of puberty.  Then we would go home, and start having chats, and we would make it through.

Except, as I have said before, things don’t often go according to plan.  So, regarding the extensive lab work up, she said, “Your daughter is NOT in puberty.  All the hormones that tell the brain to trigger development are sleeping.”

Question dog Excuse me?

How then do you explain the breasts that are developing, the palpable painful lump, and this giant growth spurt that you called “typical of puberty?” AND What about the breast sonogram?

Well that is normal.  It says “Tanner Stage II development.”

 

But doesn’t that mean puberty?, I asked.

Well, yes.

But you said… (As I reach for a copy of the report)  Hey, it also says “area of palpable abnormality of clinical concern… compatible with Tanner Stage II development!”  So, should we be concerned? (Getting slightly more alarmed and annoyed)

No, she says.  Look here at the pelvic report.  It says the uterus is not in puberty, but the ovaries are enlarged, and consistent with early hormone stimulation.

Stimulation from what?  Because now I am confused.  Is this puberty or not?

So, I kid you not, she draws me a picture.  A crude picture of two breasts, a uterus and two ovaries.  She puts a small dot on one of the ovaries and Xs it off.  She says that at some point she “probably” had a cyst on her ovary that caused her body to think it was in puberty and it began developing.  But don’t worry, it stopped because the hormones in the brain are not awake.

WHAT? Has anyone told her body?

I don’t need to see you again, unless you have a problem…as she pushes me out the door.

What about the sonogram that suggests clinical follow up?

UM, HOUSTON…. we DO have a problem!

I swear I almost asked for my CoPay back on the way out.

Is there anyone who gets that Cowden’s Syndrome is a RARE disorder characterized by a mutation on the TUMOR SUPPRESSOR gene?  If the body and the labs don’t agree, I think we probably have to look further.  Just in case there is a tumor somewhere that didn’t “fall off.”

Everything about this, from the difficulty of scheduling it at a major NYC hospital, to the way the report was written in the double speak of maybe its normal, maybe not, to the contradictory interpretation by the doctor from what she sees on the body and the paper, makes no sense to me.

I have nothing against weather reporters.  But they are wrong a lot.  Their life is of guesses and predictions.    I guess I hoped for more from the doctor than Cloudy, With a Chance of… Puberty!

I will get my umbrella,  my Mommy mouth, and all my questions.  I will keep asking until we get some answers.  But really, why must it always be such a battle?