Tonight..

Tonight I feel
LONELY.
10 days...
It seems like an eternity.
It is kind of hard to describe.
And I am pretty sure if my sweet Evalette could express herself,
she would say the same thing-
she is lonely.
She lights up when we have visitors or when the nurse comes in our room.
It is too quiet around here in this little cell room.
I imagine this is what prison feels like.
Boxed in.
Plain, bland walls.
A window that shows a view of the world outside;
a blue sky,
racing cars,
green grass,
a bustling busy city,
people scurrying to their destinations,
It teases you and you ache to be apart of the real world again.
All day long, we read books,
we play,
we sing,
we dance, and
we rock-a-by,
but still there is this constant void.
We aren't home.
We are still prisoners;
literally locked in this tiny room.
There is no Tyrell, Jarom, Lance, or daddy to come play with us.
It makes the days long.
She doesn't want to sleep and either do I.
We just want to go home.
I am learning to be patient,
but somedays I just crack.
I miss my privacy of home,
our schedule,
our family dinners,
my hubby,
cooking,
being with all my children,
being in the sunshine,
sleeping in my own bed,
showering in my own clean shower.
Our hospital family is wonderful, but it gets exhausting
trying to constantly take care of Evalette.
I feel like I am constantly fixing or watching out for something that isn't right.
Whether it is a med that needs tweaking, or too much fluids, or something else.
At the hospital I become a different person..
Grouchy, irritable, and tired.
I just feel like I am constantly in boxing mode-
Hands up, gloves on...
ready to fight if needed.
I am my daughters advocate and she needs me.
The nurses try their best, but lately there have been some hiccups.
Hiccups that I won't discuss because I know they try their best
and this isn't to bash them or the doctors- just a vent of my feelings.
Just sometimes I think they forget that this is our life.
We sleep here,
we eat here,
we live here for sometimes weeks at a time.
Since Evalette was diagnosed 5 months ago, we have spent most of our time here.
No wonder they call it the "Isolation Unit".
Isolation indeed.
Thanks for letting me vent.
Venting is good.
Better than holding it in.
So now I will let it all go;
up and away in my imaginary balloon.
And pray that her counts begin to stir so that we are home by this weekend.
And although I would never change having "cancer" come into our lives,
sometimes it tries my patience to the core.
My soul gets weary,
my body shuts down,
and I just am plain tired.
Yet I know that God loves me.
I know he loves my little girl.
We are not alone.
Literally "our little prison cell" I am sure is always filled with angels aiding in our fight.
He also loves my little boys, who have been without a mother most of the summer
and he loves my amazing, wonderful husband who has manned the house and boys alone,
while still providing for us, for the last couple of months.
And this reminder of love, constant never-ending love,
renews my soul,
gives strength to my tired body,
and my energy returns.
We can do this.
We are being refined, sanded, and made into bright, shiny, polished better people.
Just sometimes the journey gets lonely.
And I get a little lost...
but I always know that we are loved.
Thank you for your prayers.
You are all angels.
We love you.
Here is to the different journeys we are all facing...
may we be strong!
WE CAN DO HARD THINGS!


Thank you to our recent visitors.  You have no idea how inspired your visit was.  Aunt Cathy, Uncle Larry, Shawn, Tannya, Aunt Anita, Uncle Corey, Nikki, and Reagan, thanks for taking time to see us.  Truly it brightened our day.  We have such wonderful family and friends.  And Aunt Anita those books were wonderful...through them I escaped into another world.  I finished them in a day and loved the subject line.  It was perfect.  God is good.  So happy to have you all in our lives!