How My World Changed Forever...Again

I'm Getting Stronger Everyday

Annie's POV
Jump. Twist. Land. Repeat.
For the past nine days, except Sunday, I have done seven full hours of gymnastics a day. That's 56 hours in eight days.  Between loosing a lot of skills and not being in the shape I used to be, I have a lot of work cut out for myself. The staff at First Class has been amazing with me, and with my privates, I'm slowly moving back up. Some of it's so frustrating though. Like my layout step out on beam; I used to be able to do that in my sleep. Now, I fall off every. single. time. I wish I never would have quit. I had hundreds and hundreds of hours put into this and just like that, I lost it all. I can't do my front arial or full on floor. And when I release on the bar, I fall. I can't even press like I used to be able to. That was where my life began; I was Prsshandstands7.
After the fourteenth consecutive attempt and fail at my full twist on the floor with an extra mat, I stay sitting on my butt and pound my fists at my sides. "Come on Annie. Do it again," coach Gia says.
"I can't do it!"
"You can Annie. Now come on, get up."
As much as I don't want to, I get back up. I run across the floor, making sure my steps are just right. One back handspring, then boom! I turn my body in the air and know I'm in prime position. Next thing I know, I'm standing back on my feet. Not even knowing for sure how I just landed that, I'm super surprised for a second.  My arms are still straight out in from or me, and my knees are still bent.  Coach Gia says, "you did it Annie!"
     When she says that, I stand up straight and salute.  "I did it!  I did it!" I say excitedly, jumping around.
     "I knew you could Annie.  This is all muscle memory.  It's only been a few days and you already have one of your hardest skills back.  I want you to go work on some presses for a while and then do conditioning.  I have another kid coming in for a 45 minute private."
     "K," I say, walking across the gym to a corner.
     I straddle my legs, sitting on extra mats.  Then I press my palms into the floor and begin to shift my body weight.  I get as far as I can, then release down. I do this time after time and get farther up every time. I think I wasn't even able to get my legs off the ground just a few days ago.
After a while, I switch over to do shoulder strength conditioning. I kick into a handstand and alternate picking hands up and touching the opposite shoulder. These are all things I remember doing as a little girl; really, I was seven or eight. And now here I am again, six years later doing it all over.
Eventually, when I quit press handstand conditioning, I move to abs, then arms, then legs. I am just trying to get the strength that I had before back. It's so frustrating to not be able to flip like I used to, but I know, I'm getting stronger everyday.

Katie's POV
     A/N I said that Katie had been diagnosed for 4 months.  I am actually going to changed that to about 10 months.  Sorry for the confusion.
Still laying in a hospital bed, I've been more nervous this past week. Everything seems to be hush hush lately. I'm scared things are getting bad again.
My doctor comes into the room. I absolutely love her, she's incredible. She's probably about 38 years old. She has brown hair with blond highlights and a smile that seems to never leave her face.
     "Katie, I have some really good news; as long as everything stays on track, you are going to be sent home tomorrow and only come back twice a week for chemo," she says, moving to my bedside.
I cover my mouth with my hand and feel the tears welling up in my eyes. "Really?" I say, letting the tears spill over my eyes.
She nods and so do my mom and dad.
"You're so much healthier, Katie. You're doing great. You're getting around amazingly and your body is reacting really well to all the treatment," she says.
It makes me a little nervous to be home and not have doctors around in case something happens. But mostly I just want to go home. I have been at this hospital for 42 and a half days straight. That's a lot. But really, it isn't that long when I think back. The first time I was here after being diagnosed, I was here for 86 days straight.  Then I went home for 11 days, was back here because I got really sick, after 8 days, I went back home for only 5 days.  I got so sick after that, they really thought I was gonna die right then and there.  I was in the hospital for 108 days straight.  They even had me transferred to the Children's Hospital of  Philadelphia.  I went home and came back 4 days later, and I've been here since.  42 days later, they're ready to send me home again.  In total, I've spent 244 days in a hospital bed, all within 306 days.  That's crazy. That doesn't happen to kids with cancer.  Usually, kids are treated by being in the hospital for only a few nights, or sometimes chemo is even given only as outpatient.  I will never understand why I had to be the kid who was so sick that they could barely leave the hospital. The whole reason I got so sick was because they didn't diagnose me with cancer for a long time. All the blood and bone tests were coming back fine, but somehow, for some strange, medical reason, the cancer was really developing. When it finally showed, I was already so sick.
     This time, going home, I just feel better.  The other times I would go home feeling tired and sick and pretty much just like I did when I got there.  This time, I feel stronger.  I feel like I kind of got my life back.  I'm definitely by no means cancer free.  I know I have a long journey ahead of me.  But my immune system is getting stronger and they say it's not necessary to just be sitting around the hospital when I'm stable enough to go home.  I am getting some of my strength back; just a couple weeks ago, I could barely walk on some days. 
     You'd think that having gone home and it ended badly so many times, I would dread leaving.  However, I never get it through my mind how sick I am.  Every time I go home, I think it's gonna be different.  I think I'm gonna be fine and get so much school done.  I think chemo is gonna be easy.  I think I'm gonna get through all the treatment and end up in remission.  I think going home is some sort of hurdle and once I'm over it, things will only get better.  But cancer isn't like that.  It's constant ups and downs.  You have one good day and the next day you could be being rushed into the ICU, or even worse, emergency surgery.  You could be feeling great for weeks, go home, and be being flown in a helicopter across the country within days for crazy treatments.  But those things never cross my mind.  I always think it's gonna be different.  And I'm always disappointed.
     "Am I okay?" I ask.  I always ask this when they say I can go home.
     "Katie," my doctor says, "you are going amazing.  You aren't the same girl you were ten months ago.  You've been down in the playroom, moving around, and going to the bathroom alone.  Your team and I are externally confident I sending you home at this point.  And if anything happens your parents have your nurses on speed dial.  You are so much stronger.  Everyday, I see improvements that may seem insignificant but are really huge for you. You'll see us twice a week in outpatient for chemo. You'll still get sick at home because chemo is rough on your body. You know, you receive the same treatment as grown adults do. You have so many people around you who love you, and right now, things are on the upswing. You're the healthiest and strongest you've been since diagnosis."
I'm still me. I'm still Katie. I'm not dying, I'm living. And I'm getting stronger.

Colleen's POV
Erik wraps his arms around me, getting ready to leave my house. He let's go of me and holds both of my hands. I look him in the eyes, and the moment just feels right. After a month and a half, I'm me again. I know he's waiting for me to say it first. I know he knows it's been hard for me. He's seen me break down crying for no reason. But now, I am ready. Standing on my tiptoes, I pull my arms to my chest and lean my head into his chest. I look up and him and say, "I love you."
Wrapping his arms around my back, he says, "I love you too."
I have never been prouder to be able to say those words.
For a moment, my world is perfect. The stars align and I feel safe and secure. "I gotta go," Erik says after a moment.
He opens the door and I follow him into the porch. He cups my face and kisses my lips, then walks down the steps. I stand and wait for him to drive away. I wave until his car is out of sight. I love that guy.
When I go back into the house, I close the door then lean my back against it. I smile. It feels good to smile again, for real. Erik makes me so happy, and I'm so glad he was patient enough to wait for me to be ready. That makes me fall in love with him all over again.
Since my divorce, I had lost something about me. I wasn't the same because I was so scared to fall in love again. Now I feel like I'm at the point in my life when I can love again. I know I'm ready, and I'm so excited to see what the future with Erik brings.
With every date and every moment spent together, I get the strength and trust back that I once lost. Erik is pretty magical; he forced me to fall in love with him, even though I though I could never love anyone every again.