Around this time, the story gets a little blurry for me to remember, days and weeks have melded together to become one big experience at the hospital where I gained most of my new grey hairs!

We started off spending the night in the Emerg at McMaster CHildren's Hospital in Hamilton. I think they didn't know where to put us since they didn't know what griffin had.

That was an epic night in the ER, I think we saw just about EVERY SINGLE doctor, intern, medical student, social worker, nurse, etc in the place. Finally at about 3am, the visits stopped and we were able to try and sleep. Except, the ER is filled with crying and screaming children. The Child Life Specialist was nice enough to bring us this plastic fish tank thingy that you put on the side of a baby's crib to soothe them. At first I thought that this lady was nutso, this thing plays the same music over and over, this is going to be more annoying then anything. Surprisingly enough, it drowned out the other children and we were able to grab 4 hours of sleep, Grandma in the bed with Griffin, me, trying to sleep upright in a chair. I'm 6 feet tall...it wasn't a comfy situation! lol

So they finally got us up into a ward room, in the 3C ward, with 3 other small children in the room, You can imagine the craziness. Griff had a sedated CT scan while they wait to book an Emerg MRI. We in turn talk to every doctor from what seems like every dept. Eye specialist, blood diseases, Ventrical specialist, (They thought it could be a bundle of blood vessels?) disease control (in case it was some weirdo jungle germ) head of the peds dept, all the interns and medical students for all of these people that wanted to figure out what this was, I guess to get bragging rights? Then we met with Dr Carol Portwine, the oncologist. She came in and took a look at Griffin, poked his eye. Looked me in the eye and introduced herself. I felt at that moment I knew. It was cancer. She of course was VERY professional, trying to talk us into not freaking out, at this point it could be ANYTHING. But I remember her looking at Griffin like, Shit, another kid...

At this point, the eye lid is now bulbous, a little bit smaller than a golf ball, the eyeball itself is squished to an egg shape. it is pointing down and to the right with very little movement.

After Dr Portwine saw us, things moved very quickly. He had CT & xrays of his body (to check for other lumps n bumps) his IV was changed (which was starting to break down and rot...grosssss...) and finally an MRI. So they now knew it was a solid body mass. It can grown to 10 cms (from 3cms)since the scans just a week before. They booked a biopsy for the next day. On Dec 6th, 2011 Griffin had his biopsy and was sent home. (thank gawd) The eye surgeon Dr Havey was able to cut a line across the lid where he thought Griffin's natural fold in the eyelid would be, they then took a piece of the tumour and sent it away to Toronto for testing. At this point they were able to tell us it was a tumour. Not sure what kind.

On Dec 11th, I was home alone with Griffin when I got the call. I remember standing at the island in my kitchen. I remember thinking, I should really be freaking out right now. Dr Sabri, head eye Doctor of McMaster called with the news (I think he was very eager for the news himself!) And he told us that it was confirmed as Rhabdomyosarcoma, which is a rare and very agressive type of muscle cancer. He was labelled as Stage 1 type 2. We met our "Team" at McMaster the next day as to what our attack plan was. They wanted to wait and see what type of Rhabdo Griffin had so he could be part of a study. I asked what would happen if we didn't wait? They could start chemo the very next week. We chose that option. This was on a thursday, by Saturday, Griffin was in the OR having a Port-a-cath inserted into his chest. A port is about the size of a bottle cap and is just under the skin. It is a direct line to the heart so they could give him fluids, chemo, meds etc without having to use an IV. The port is accessed by a large needle inserted into the port which is just a little prick. Much less fuss and muss and pain then having an IV in for sure! We stayed in the hospital for the next week, he started his first chemo session that monday even before his prt scars had healed. He took chemo like a trooper for sure! We were released from the hospital a week before Christmas. My friends and co-works at work had come and put up random Xmas lights in our yard. It looked like Christmas took a barf on our lawn, all crooked and mis-matched. I LOVED it! As we turned the corner and our house came into view, I just burst into tears. WONDERFUL! I stood out on the side walk in the snow soaking it all in. It was a sense of normal and a sense of love. It was a reminder that even though all hell was breaking loose in our lives, Griffin deserved a Yule and Christmas celebration (our family celebrates both) It made me lift my head up, but on my fake smile and trudge through the holidays.

(On a side note, Marty and I attended one family xmas party in full face masks as to not risk exposure with 40 family members. I'm sure the photos look awesome from that year! hahaha!)

All of this time (over a month by this time) I did not return to work. Luckily I work for an amazing company with a VERY understanding boss and caring co-workers. I was put on stress leave (understandably I just couldn't bear to return to work) and my pay was covered with short term disability and thankfully my benefits were covered by my work still.

 At this point Griffin required 24 different medications at all different times of the day, some before meals, some after meals, etc. My days were filled with homemade meds charts to keep everything on track, meetings with the nurses that came into my home. Griffin required a deep tissue leg needle which I was taught to give the meds through. He got a feeding tube put up his nose to give him meds and food through. I had an IV pole in my living room, a feeding machine in his bedroom. My kitchen island was COVERED in medical supplies. I actually carried a very large tool box like bag that had a sample of all his meds and medical supplies in it. (You would be surprised how often I had to dip into it, even at the hospital! yikes!)

Everybody was telling me how great I was doing, and how well we were handling everything. To be honest with you, I had no idea what they were talking about. I felt like I was walking around in a daze. Maybe in shock? I felt like a zombie, no emotions either way, good or bad, I just performed the functions I had too. On the advice of my Doctor, I started seeking out a therapist. The first one I went too I HATED and swore I would never go to a "shrink" ever again...

Life went on...we spent 3 days a week in the Chemo Clinic and then every third week, we spent five days in the hospital getting "big" chemo...life became a routine centred around the hospital and getting ready to go to the hospital, then cleaning up and doing laundry from the hospital.

In this month, we met Chantal and Craig from Alvia's Rainbows. Alivia's Rainbows is an AMAZING organization which gives cancer families money directly for things like rent, gas, food etc. They stepped in when we needed it most. They made the BIGGEST difference in our lives at the most critical point. Today I contine to raise money for this fabulous foundation that is in honour of thier little girl Alivia who lost her battle with cancer just two years earlier! I figured, if these people can lift thier heads up, work full time jobs AND put thier pants on each morning when they LOST thier baby, then I can get my ass through this too!!! Biggest break through for me at this point!!!