Santa Claus, Silver Linings, and People are Good

People are good.

The news is full of horrible stories that break your heart; but there is hope: people are good.

Much of kindness and generosity happens without getting a highlight on this blog, and I am sorry for the omissions. We are surrounded by support and love. For example, Millie's Princess Foundation has been very busy of late. They received some invitations for cancer families and brought us along.

The day after Thanksgiving, Gallivan Plaza hosted a skating party to celebrate their tree lighting, and we were invited to participate. The kids all loved it. They all did better this year than last - Tommy was adventurous it rather than refusing to put his skates on the ice. Caleb did well. The girls were both fairly independent.

We met up with the Lynch family there. They have become such incredible friends as Grady and Emma both have fought leukemia. In the midst of such a fight, the Lynch family are always on the lookout to help someone else. They are truly some of our favorite people.

A few days after Thanksgiving, our family was invited to see Santa Claus before City Creek Mall opened.

Again, we loved spending time with marvelous friends. We love these families that share this tough experience.

Finally, for this post anyway, Santa Claus reached out and asked for our Christmas wish list. I told him we would be ok, and to go focus on somebody in need. He said he had heard the same thing from several families, and would I just please give him a list. After a little back and forth, Santa won and I gave him my list.

Yesterday, while we were at the hospital getting Emma's port removed and ringing the bell, Burt Brothers was replacing the muffler on our van. When I went in to get the car, Jake at Burt Brothers thanked me for letting him take care of us. "Merry Christmas," he said.

You will never convince me that there is no Santa Claus. After all that has been done for us in the name of Saint Nicholas, I am committed to keeping him alive and active for many more years to come.

Ring the Bell

Today is the ending ceremony, first follow up appointment, and her port removal surgery.

She didn't ring the bell last month because she still had oral chemo until Thanksgiving.

Today we started by checking in to Same Day Surgery, then to clinic. It's December,  so Emma got a stocking stuffed with art supplies, nail polish, hair accessories, and such.

Stocking, Play Doh, and Daddy.

Doug checked her over. We talked about the transition to her pediatrician. She got some play doh. Dr. Engle is out so we saw Dr. Verma, who we haven't seen for quite a long time.

Doug is Emma's doctor. Doug frequently wears no socks. I think he looks like Flynn Ryder.

We heard another kid ring the bell before us. There were 3 who finished today, all Doug's patients. Jessica, Emma's primary nurse, says that's the best Christmas present.

Jessica has been Emma's nurse for more than two years. Jessica has mad ninja port-access skills and she is Emma's buddy.

Emma had some time, so she made a couple Christmas ornaments with a volunteer. Then it was her turn. Her nurses came clapping and singing the no-more-chemo song. They gave her some presents- things that they know she likes- wrapped in a blanket.

Crafts, art projects, coloring, painting, and glitter. We love the things that set a children's hospital apart from other boring hospitals.

She rang the bell, danced around, hugged her nurses, and posed for a picture (to be uploaded later.)
 

Some of Emma's nurses and her child life buddy.

We returned to same day surgery. She got into her OR pajamas and we talked with her surgeon and anesthesiologist,  who has worked on both Tommy and Emma.
 

Two IDs: one for clinic and one for surgery

Now she is in surgery, and we return to where we were when I started this blog.

Gratitude. I am so grateful.

EDIT/ ADDENDUM:
Surgery went fine. Dr. Tanner gave her enough to knock her out, but not so much that she wouldn't wake up. The port was pretty entangled in scar tissue, so the surgeon needed two incisions to get it out well and safely, but there it is, on the table.

Power Port. A biological hazard now that it is out. The self-sealing silicone sucks in around the needle, allowing for chemo going in and samples coming out. Fluids going in, antibiotics going in, and samples coming out. What a fabulous bit of engineering and creativity.

I may have had the giggles while Emma recovered. Post-operative instructions included "give her Tylenol or ibuprofen for pain." We haven't given her Tylenol - it's only been administered in the ER after her counts were taken. She hasn't had ibuprofen since diagnosis: it's a blood thinner.

We know quite well that PTSD is a reality for a lot of cancer families. Worries linger. Threats of relapse, secondary cancers, side effects from treatments, survivors guilt, and other worries follow cancer patients and their parents. I have no doubt that those worries will be there; but for now we are feeling relief, gratitude, freedom, and hope.

Threats may loom, but for now, Emma is fine. Tommy is fine. Lizzy is fine. Caleb is fine.

You Can Fly

Once again our family supported us and helped us create a tree for the Festival of Trees. Emma's Aunts Sarah and Jenni joined with Mama as the design team.

We included Emma's "No More Chemo" photo and the dedication for the tree said this:

Toward the end of her cancer treatment, Emma felt like she was a veteran of pokes and procedures. She likes to help new cancer patients – especially calming them about getting their ports accessed. Emma’s advice:

“The way to be brave whenever you are scared is to Think of a Happy Thought.”

On Thanksgiving, Emma finished treatment for Leukemia after 2 years, 2 months, and 3 days.

It is wonderful to be able to sink emotions: fear, sadness, hope, gratitude, and love  - into a creative project.

I hope my family enjoyed doing it. My father built the pirate chest, one sister quilted, another sister created the signs, my brother made Peter's hat. Many gathered and created the materials.

The sold on the bottom of the sign feels so good. The purchase price goes straight to Primary Children's Hospital. I'll always, always be grateful for that amazing house of healing.

Next year we will do a tree again, though we must find a new dedication. Emma is done.

No More Chemo

Thanksgiving day was Emma's last dose of Mercaptopurine - 6 (6MP) and her last dose of Methyltrexate. These are oral meds she has taken since beginning maintenance.

From wikipedia:

Some of the adverse reactions of taking mercaptopurine will include diarrhea, nausea, vomiting, loss of appetite, fatigue, stomach/abdominal pain, weakness, skin rash, darkening of the skin, and hair loss. Serious adverse reactions include mouth sores, fever, sore throat, easy bruising or bleeding, pinpoint red spots on the skin, yellowing of eyes or skin, dark urine, and painful or difficult urination. Other more serious side effects include black or tarry stools (melena), bloody stools, and bloody urine… Mercaptopurine causes myelosuppression, suppressing the production of white blood cells and red blood cells. It may be toxic to bone marrow. Weekly blood counts are recommended for patients on mercaptopurine.

And some of the highlights of Methotrexate, which Emma took weekly by mouth, except on weeks that she had it intrathecally, also from Wikipedia:

It is used in treatment of cancer, autoimmune diseases, ectopic pregnancy, and for the induction of medical abortions. It acts by inhibiting the metabolism of folic acid… Although methotrexate for autoimmune diseases is taken in lower doses than it is for cancer, side effects such as hair loss, nausea, headaches, and skin pigmentation are still common. Methotrexate can be taken orally or administered by injection (intramuscular, intravenous, subcutaneous, or intrathecal). Oral doses are usually taken weekly, not daily, to limit toxicity. Routine monitoring of the complete blood count, liver function tests, and creatinine are recommended.

We are really grateful for the benefits of these drugs, and couldn't thing of anything better than to be finished taking them for Thanksgiving.

How to Be Brave

Emma has some experience with hospitals.

Emma has some experience with surgery and operating rooms.

Emma has been poked with a fair number of needles.

A few months ago, her nurses asked if she would mind allowing another patient to come an watch Emma's port access. Emma was happy to let a less-experienced patient come and learn. They picked Emma because she doesn't cry, and she handles port access pretty well. She explained how to be brave to this other patient - all matter-of fact.

I asked her again a few days later to tell me how to be brave.

"When you are scared, you just have to think of happy things."

I couldn't help thinking of a Disney song - here are some of the lyrics from Peter Pan:

Think of the happiest things.
It's the same as having wings

Think of a wonderful thought
Any merry little thought
Think of Christmas, think of snow
Think of sleigh bells - off you go!
Like a reindeer in the sky
You can fly! You can fly! You can fly!

When there's a smile in your heart
There's no better time to start
Think of all the joy you'll find
When you leave the world behind
And bid your cares good-bye
You can fly! You can fly! You can fly!

Sometimes it is hard for her to be brave. Sometimes it is hard to think of happy things. But this sweet girl keeps on trying and teaches me every day.

Bengals Again

In September, Millie's Princess Foundation was invited to present their proposal to Brighton High School again. Brady asked me to come tell them what it meant to be part of Brighton High School last year.

I was only too grateful and humbled to get to talk to the officers. We were delighted when the Bengals chose Millie's Princess Foundation again. They have three brave new heroes to work with. They even invited us back to Brighton for their kickoff assembly.

We loved having Emma be their princess last year, and we are so excited for those amazing high school kids to do it again this year for Devin, Tyce, and Elaina.

Thank you, Brighton High.

One of the officers is also one of the Young Women I work with at church. She tells me that their fund raiser is her favorite part of high school.

I believe her. Those kids and those families are going to be changed in the next couple months. The world is a bright beautiful loving place, and people are good. Doing good builds so much.

Festival of Trees

I am posting this six months late.

I am ashamed to realize that I never posted this before. I meant to.

This was the week after Thanksgiving.

Festival of Trees has been benefiting Primary Children's Hospital for decades. Every tree and playhouse and quilt and wreath is donated for a 4-day display that fills all the halls of the entire convention center.

Decorators have a day to put it all together, and then people pay to come see the beautiful decorations. Dancers and choirs and other entertainment comes from all over the state to perform.

They sell scones and hot cocoa, which are also donated.

Families and companies bid on the trees. Some families traditionally buy their Christmas tree from the Festival each year. Sometimes they adorn the lobbies local businesses. Several are bought and then donated to decorate the halls and clinics at Primary Children's Hospital.

This year, one tree was placed in the Hematology/Oncology clinic, and the toys that decorated it were distributed to the patients that came in December.

Emma's grandparents, Aunts, and Uncles from both sides helped fund Emma's tree.

Emma wanted Minnie Mouse to be the theme, and we got busy making "Minnie's Miracles."

Aunties Jen and Sarah let me be on the decorating team. I certainly couldn't captain this project, much less do it on my own. I am really grateful that I got to be there on decorating day, though.

There's the picture in the frame. Emma with Minnie, taken on her Make-a-Wish trip.

We spent nearly $400 on the materials. We bought many items on the day after Christmas 2013. Retail for the supplies would have been just over $600. 

Looks pretty good, huh? We were working next to a family that brought their little baby to decorating day, along with his oxygen and medical supplies. We were on the same row as the two trees that were donated almost at the last minute in honor of Ethan Van Leuven. That was the day I met Jennifer, Ethan's mom. We've become friends with that incredible family.

Emma's friend Braelyn was diagnosed a couple weeks after her. Braelyn's family and neighbors did a tree that was a few rows away from us. Braelyn is also doing pretty well, now.

Every tree tells a story. Every tree is a gift of love. For many people besides me, these trees are a target for emotions. Maybe of gratitude, honor, memory, hope, sorrow, grief, joy... and always love. They are something to focus on when you need an outlet.

Our community did a tree honoring a gal who had been on the Festival board for more than 20 years and who passed away leaving a huge hole in our neighborhood. Some are celebrations, some are tributes, some are wishes.

 This tree is Dylan's. Emma's Home Health nurse, Dylan, made this tree decorated with the favorite candy of all his patients. I don't remember which candy Emma told him; but she's on there.

We know people that have been beneficiaries of the monies raised by this and other efforts for Primary Children's Hospital. We have friends that didn't have insurance when their child was diagnosed. We know people whose lives have been blessed because of this. 

The SOLD sign in the corner brings me a lot of peace. I feel like we were able to say thank you a little bit for all the people that have helped us along the way.

We have a theme and a plan for this year's festival, again. We have spent around $500 and Grampa Tec has built us a treasure chest. Auntie Jen is piecing a quilt. We are gearing up for another chance to say thank you and to expend a little emotion in creativity.

Camp Hobe

I haven't posted an update in more than 3 months.

Things have happened. Emma visited clinic every 28 days to get her IV chemo. She had another back poke in the sedation room, and that went really well. Chemo into the CSF, a sample of that fluid for testing, and still no leukemic cells detected.

She finished her second year of music classes and did well at the performance. Here she is with her cousin who was in the first year. You can see how her hair is growing all over.

The Brighton High School softball team invited Emma to come co-captain a game. She got to call the coin toss and her official Brighton Jersey is number 45.

Daddy and Momma went to Moab for 4 days to run a race and to celebrate 11 years of being together. (we skipped #10 in favor of chemo.) While we were gone, Grandma Reeder had to take Emma to the E.R. with a fever. That was pretty dramatic and scary for Grandma.

This weekend Emma had another fever and another E.R. visit. She is doing well since.

One of the really cool things that happens because of cancer is that Emma and Lizzy and Tommy got to go to Camp Hobe. It is a week long camp every June. All the other kids are also cancer kids or cancer siblings.

Lizzy has been talking about camp Hobe for months, so excited. She got to stay overnight last year, all week long. This year Emma was old enough for week-long camp, too. They had their bags packed and were ready to go well in advance.

They swam every day, they rode the zip line and did a ropes course. They did crafts and sang campy camp songs. They stayed in cabins and played pranks. They were slathered in sunscreen, dipped in popsicles, and rolled in the dirt, I think.

Lizzy's favorite camp prank is to write the letter P on a bunch of yellow post it notes, and then put those post it notes all over the same-aged boy cabin, so the boys return to find P in their cabin. Super hilarious, I know.

We picked up the girls and both had friends with whom they need to set up play dates or pen pal arrangements. They can't wait until next summer to see their friends again.

Tommy went to one day of camp and did a lot of the same things. When I arrived to pick him up, he said he didn't want me there and that I should go away because he didn't want to go home. Not bad for a kid who wouldn't speak to anybody or make eye contact during drop-off.

Lizzy is planning to be a Counselor in Training when she is 16. I didn't know that was the timeframe; but Lizzy is totally aware. They get to attend until 3 years past treatment, so with luck we only get to attend 3 more summers. With luck, Caleb will not get the experience of week-long overnight Camp Hobe.

At this point all is promising. Emma has had no unusual or anomalous tests. She is handling her chemo well. Her ANC is kept well below the average person.

We are discovering a pattern. When her system is stressed: when she doesn't sleep in her own bed and eat normal food, or when she keeps going going going sunup til sundown... Under these circumstances that stress her body, she reacts with a fever.

Sometimes there is a virus or something causing the stress; but sometimes external influences bring on the fever. When we left her at Cousins and Grandma's house for 4 nights to go to Moab, she fevered. Camp Hobe... Fever. Last summer our family camp in Jackson featured a fever that prompted a mad dash to Salt Lake so she could be directly admitted.

It might be prudent to avoid all body stresses; but we do have another family camping trip scheduled this summer. This time, though, it is located about 45 minutes from Primary Childrens. I picked the venue to be closer. The pattern is emerging, though, and I would be unsurprised if we don't end up with a fever again.

Cancer is becoming the annoyance that Dr. Engle said it should be. Maintenance is significantly less stressful than the previous phases of treatment.

We are still juggling her daily meds. We changed doses last appointment, so now the med schedule looks like this:

Monday: 2.5 mg Septra morning and night, 1/2 tablet 6MP
Tuesday: 2.5 mg Septra morning and night, 1/2 tablet 6MP
Wednesday: 1/2 tablet 6MP
Thursday: 1 tablet 6MP
Friday: 1 tablet 6MP, 5 tablets of methotrexate
Saturday: 1 tablet 6MP
Sunday: 1 tablet 6MP

plus 2.5mg Dexamethasone morning and night for the first 5 days of each 28-day cycle.

Simple, right? The only bottles with the correct dosing written on them are the Septra and dex. All the others have previous dosing, so we have to keep it all straight.

She's doing pretty great, though. All the kids are. So there's the update after 3 months' silence.

Home Health

We had Clinic the first Friday of February. There had been some miscommunication with Emma's medications. What I understood for her dosage was not exactly what was written on the bottles. What was written on the bottles was not even close to the dosing that Doug thought we were doing. What I was doing didn't match Doug's master sheet.

We had some in-depth detailed discussions regarding the dosing and even got the master written instructions. Doug wanted counts in two weeks to see what the "correct" dosing would do to Emma's counts.

For completely unrelated reasons, we had her prescriptions sent to a pharmacy close to home rather than the hospital pharmacy. Newly written and sent to a different location. The bottles still don't match Doug's master sheet, and her Dexamethasone was short by 2 doses.

Each cancer is treated differently, and each phase (induction; consolidation; delayed intensification 1; interim maintenance; delayed intensification 2; and maintenance) contains a different cocktail of drugs. Those cocktails are then adjusted for the child's height, age, and weight and then can be adjusted or even substituted based on the child's reaction. Doses go up and down depending on several factors, and there are IV meds, intrathecal meds, oral meds. There are chemotherapy drugs and then drugs to counter the side effects of the chemo. They can affect levels of so many different proteins and blood cells and other bodily markers.

There are drugs that should be taken with food and drugs that absolutely cannot be taken with food. Some are taken twice daily two days a week. Some are daily. Some are weekly. Some are weekly except weeks when the child gets another drug. Some are monthly. Some are daily, but the dose varies one or two days.

It is wildly complex. I'm not making any of that up - it's Emma's real protocol right now.

So, according to doctor's orders, two weeks later we got a visit from Emma's home health nurse, Dylan Law.

This man is an incredible pediatric nurse. He loves his kids. He is patient and he listens to them. He will take whatever time they need. He is fairly quiet and will talk with them about their interests. He has jammed on guitars with another of his patients who is Emma's friend. We know kids that would only let Dylan access them, and so he went to the hospital for them. He gladly went to one child's home to remove a band-aid that the boy wouldn't allow anybody else remove.

Dylan doesn't tell those stories; but legends of Dylan circulate among his patients' parents. He shows up at Curesearch walk and Millie's Princess Run and motorcycle rallies in support of his kids. He will take care of kids who want him only - even on his days off. He has come from church on Sundays and left his personal life for a bit at the call of the kids who trust him.

Tommy loves when Dylan comes, because as soon as Emma's temperature is taken, Dylan will let Tommy shoot the thermometer probe cover off the thermometer over and over and over.

He regularly leaves a few empty tubes for Emma to play with - whichever colors she wants. If she is grumpy, he lets her shoot saline at him because it makes her laugh. Several months ago I forgot Emma's numbing cream which should be applied 20 minutes before the port is accessed. Dylan arrived, no cream... so he sat and waited and played with her until the cream had time to numb her up.

Thursday, when I had forgotten her numbing cream yet again, she decided Dylan was good enough at port access that she would just get it over with. She didn't even flinch - apparently when Dylan accesses her she doesn't feel the needle go in. It's a placebo effect, for sure, based on trust.

I am forever grateful for those who are driven to work in pediatric oncology. It must be a heartrending occupation so many days. It must be so frustrating to be so limited in what will work. The balance between toxicity and therapy is so delicate sometimes.

I am forever grateful for the nurses who gravitate toward pediatric oncology for the same reasons. I am forever grateful for Dylan's choice of profession. It would be such a tragedy if he were a plumber or a pharmacist.

November Fun, Fingernail Wierdness, and Thanksgiving

Most of November has passed and no new posts. No news is pretty good news in cancer. I have seen a lot of other cancer kids' blogs where they drop off once they get into maintenance.

Brighton High School had a freezing 5-K followed by a Fall Festival fundraiser. The kids loved hanging out with Grady's family and Millie's younger brother. 

They also partnered with our local Chick-Fil-a to split some of the profits on the dinner sales one fine Thursday night, so we went to see our Brighton Buddies then, too.

 

And one more picture of November activities. HopeKids does a movie once a month, and we got to see Big Hero 6 with them at Jordan Commons. The kids loved that.

We had a clinic appointment starting the next 84-day cycle. Those come with Lumbar Punctures. We chose to have her LP in the sedation room again. Dr. Katelyn did the LP, since she is amazing at it. Emma was calling her the Back Poke Queen. The notes suggested a dosage range for the sedation drugs, and I recalled for them that the dose they used was ample and possibly more than needed to get the job done.

Emma stayed asleep for 90 minutes. Sedation is supposed to slow a kid down for about 15 minutes, and they should lie down for a full 30 after an LP to let the methotrexate mix well with the CSF and to reduce risks of headaches.

They adjusted the notes for Emma to use much less of the drugs for her next sedation. I do believe it's genetic. My father and I also respond very thoroughly to any anesthetics. A little goes a very long way for our respective weight classes.

We asked Dr. Doug and Dr. Elizabeth about Emma's fingernails.

They both seemed perplexed. It looks like the old nail died and there is a new nail growing underneath it. I initially figured it was a chemo reaction of some kind, but when they both were unfamiliar with it, I started to worry just a bit over what would make a kid's nails do this.

Another cancer mama saw them, said she'd heard of it, and suggested reaching out for an answer. The cancer mama community has indeed seen it. One mama said her doctor responded to her own kiddo's similar problem with an explanation that the nail bed is a complex matrix and the chemo must have disrupted it. Within a couple hours, five different mamas said their kids had experienced something like it.

It isn't necessarily common, and doesn't seem to be a side effect of any one particular drug, so it wouldn't go on the medication information sheet. I heard of it after a stem cell transplant and during different phases of treatment. So there you have it... the nail bed is a complex matrix.

Cancer is not a great thing at all; but it comes with some blessings. I love the people we have gotten to know through this. On Tuesday, we had a play date with one of Emma's friends so that I could talk with my cancer mama friend. We'll do it again.

Earlier this month I went to an overnight retreat in Heber. 30ish mamas got together at a cabin. Several restaurants catered meals for us. The mama who organized it managed to get quite a lot donated so that it would be affordable. It was so incredibly therapeutic to listen to each other, to relate about this unwelcome horror that we have all had to live with. 

Those are some strong women. We have different interests, different backgrounds, different educations and ages and socioeconomic statuses. The shared experience, though, leads to a level of trust and camaraderie. I am so grateful to know them. They are strong. Their stories and their children's stories are compelling. 

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. We have so much to be grateful for. I am so grateful for people whose life work, career, and everyday focus is to help my Emma.

I am grateful for pediatric oncologists, for researchers, for nurses, medical techs, and all the medical personnel that fight cancer. I am grateful for Primary Children's hospital. I am grateful for the dozen-plus organizations that we know that help bring joy to sick kids. HopeKids, Make-a-Wish, Millie's Pringess Foundation, NEGU joy jars, ACCO, Anything Can Be, the folks who make capes and gather socks and legos, the blanket makers and pillowcase makers. I am so grateful that technology allows for a free and efficient support group on Facebook - I need that group so much.

I am grateful for good neighbors. I am grateful for a close family. I am grateful for my anonymous cash donors. I am grateful for the friendship and generosity of quiet helpers that impact us so much and don't want to be thanked openly. (you know who you are.) I am grateful for CapitalOne360's contest last year, without which we would be in a very different place with the stress and the budget.

I am grateful for the treatments we do have, and grateful that we still have Emma.

I am mindful of those that are missing their angel children at this time of year. I think it must be awful every day to have lost a child; but this time of year must ache a bit extra.

There are so many things to be grateful for, even in the cancer world.

Make a Wish Friday

We had a lot to do the last day. After cleaning up the last of our things, we moved out of our villa and put together the Van Jigsaw.

Next stop, the House of Hearts, where we began our journey.

We needed to check out and collect our packet. Emma also had one last errand.

The Gingerbread House has toys - mostly dolls and stuffed animals - lining the ceiling. Each one was donated by a wish child. It is not required, requested, or ever asked, but Emma knew about those toys. Emma brought Horton the Elephant to Florida to stay. He would be like a little piece of Emma to leave behind and remind future kids of Emma, and for Emma to say thank you with something that she loves. So Emma said Good Bye to Horton and donated him to stay and love all the kids that will come.

We next poked our head in to the Castle of Miracles to meet George.

Then one last breakfast and one last ice cream, and we left Give Kids the World Village.

Our friends from Canada told us what we must see at Sea World in the short time we had. Emma had been talking about feeding dolphins for a month or more, so that was our first stop.

While we waited, Emma picked through the seashells in the flower beds and selected several favorites.

They gave us each a tray of fish and taught us how to feed the Dolphins.

Near the end of the feeding session, a trainer came over to help us and introduce us to the beautiful Lilly who did a few nice tricks right there at the wall for us.

Lizzy's cast denied her the ability to ride the Manta roller coaster, and Clinton thought it unwise right before flying. Emma's magic Give Kids the World button let Momma walk right onto the ride without any waiting at all. The Manta is a flying coaster, which means your feet hang down; but this one also picks riders up and faces them out so the track is at their spines as they reach 54 miles per hour doing 4 inversions and dipping down to get splashed in the lagoon below. That's as close as I've ever been to feeling like I was flying.

Sea World doesn't have any Manta Rays - which have a 25-foot wing span, but we did feed some stingrays.

They eat little shrimp.

The kids each got a tray, and again, the trainers showed them how it is done.

The kids totally loved feeding them!

They are such strange and beautiful creatures.

We watched them circle their aquarium for quite awhile.

 Finally, we had to leave the rays if we were going to see Shamu. We entered the stadium about 4 minutes before the show was to begin, and it was nearly full. I don't know how big it was; but certainly more than twice the size of my high school football stadium.

We showed Emma's pass and were pointed to the front center row, if we didn't mind being in the soak zone.

I don't think we actually did see anybody named Shamu; but maybe. There were four or five beautiful killer whales.

It was a breathtaking show, and incredible what grace and beauty and athleticism there is in an animal the size of a bus.

We had such a perfect view of everything, though we did for sure get thoroughly wet, having forgotten ponchos.

The walk to the exit gave us a chance to dry just a bit. Next stop, the gas station to fill up, then a drive through for some quick lunch, and then to the airport.

We checked three bags and made our way to the gate. There were a few delays due to weather in Houston, and our flights were full. We were all wearing our Make-a-Wish shirts again. The very nice gate agent, looking at our stroller full of carry-on luggage, offered to check a few more bags for us at no cost, which we gratefully accepted.

The children were excellent on the flight to Denver. Caleb was, admittedly, bored and a little bit busy. Neither Clinton nor I got to read or play with electronics.

The last flight was on a tiny plane for only about an hour. Aunt Jenni was there at the airport to take us back home, happy, tired, and smelling of Orca.

One last surprise - while we were gone Grammy came and cleaned our house, did the laundry, and left us some raspberries. She wanted the magic of Emma's wish to last just a bit longer.