Isabella’s Dream Team week one is complete. With our first group run behind us, one number gave us the inspiration needed behind every step, every bead of sweat and every sore muscle. 1843. The number of missed kisses. The number of missed goodnights. The number of days since Isabella passed. This season our team will run with an updated number on their arms every Saturday. To remind us why we are running. We run until that number is zero for parents of children fighting cancer. It’s not to late to join.
Read the #Runningtozero blog below… written by Isabella’s Mommy around this time last year. And why she started counting days.
I tossed and turned in bed. I knew my mind was racing. I had this feeling a lot back in the day and I know how to fix it. I had to write. I knew that if I did my mind would settle and I could sleep. But the “new” Erin convinced myself that my anxiety was due to the Dream Team 6 mile run at 6:30 am the next day. It was just nerves that I would oversleep or worse, not be able to do the run.
My mind and body tossed from 10:30 pm – 1:30 am.
I woke at 4:30 am and I knew it wasn’t running nerves. The day before while shopping I received a call from a new friend. Her Granddaughter just received results from recent scans and the neuroblastoma was aggressive, although I not sure aggressive accurately describes it. The neuroblastoma had become deadly. Palliative care options were given due to the rapid progression of the disease.
I tried to remain calm with the news because at this point in my life, I know that Doctors are really just guessing. You learn this when you too, have been given this option several times – yet your own daughter proves them wrong and makes a comeback. These Doctors are not God and you learn this the hard way. I gave the best advice I could give.
Tell the parents to read their daughter. If she wants to fight – then fight. If she is done, they will know and then the fight will be over.
We read Isabella each time we got devastating news. Doctors said she was done but her light showed “Green” so we fought. Sometimes it seemed “Yellow”, so we would cautiously continue. But when it turned “Red” for the first and only time – we stopped. She died quickly.
But I found myself Friday night at Nordstroms, crying. Sad and Angry.
It feels like we just made our decision. It was just yesterday right? I found myself at 4:30 am counting days.
There is no way.
I began to freak out that another mother might soon be counting.
1 is the hardest number. But oddly 1494 still feels hard. When you see that number it may seem like a lifetime ago. But for me, it feels so recent. It’s 1494 missed kisses, missed goodnights, and missed smiles. I’m sure that number can be a hard motivator for some to take action. But to me, that number is as motivating as ever. Especially during these hot summer months when every number we see kills our motivation.
99 degrees, 100% humidity, 13.1 miles, 6:30 am, $500 fundraising goals. You may begin to wonder why you are doing this to yourself?
1494. That number motivates me because it’s an awful number. And next Saturday that number will be 1501. My number will continue to grow this season and I know that everything I’m doing, every time I ask for a donation, and every mile I run in this heat is so that someone like me will not have to write that number on their arm.
I will run and continue to ask until that number is zero.