Thursday 6 August 2015

It's late

It's late and I can't sleep.

It's late and he won't live.

It's late and we can't look back.

Trish and Dom are at Flames Rotary House again, while I'm at home in Medicine Hat for the work week.

Note: again. He hasn't been there all week. At 1:30 a.m. Saturday he spiked a fever and I put on my clothes, put him in his stroller, waited for a nurse and a security guard and we walked the 500 metres over to the hospital and Unit 1.

He wasn't himself the whole time I was there. He didn't want to walk around, didn't want to play. Just cuddles and some dancing where he sat. As if he knows the end is coming, too.

More antibiotics. More transfusions. On Monday the fever returned, and on Tuesday we found out its source: A fungal infection in his lungs.

With the cancer spreading like wildfire through his blood, nothing will cure the infection now. There's no good white blood cells left. All we can do is slow it down.

So now it's a matter of time. Do we have time for a wish trip to Florida, Disneyworld and Give Kids the World? I don't know. Good people are going to try to make it happen though. They'll try their best.

I wish I had better news.

I wish I had more energy.

I wish he could at least be comfortable for this final ride.

And so we put him on morphine. The drug Trish feared the most. The one which screams death, deprivation, degradation.

And instantly it was too much, as he could barely sit up. His eyes, already puffy from the past week of medications, stayed shut most of the time.

They did finally get back out of hospital, with the rationale that if anything else goes wrong, it's just another 500 metres back there. And at Rotary Flames, there's staff watching him 24/7 so that Trish (and I, when I'm there) can get the rest we so desperately need.

But there's nothing left to do for him.

It's too late for a cure.

It's too late for regret.

But it's never too late to tell him I love him.

Extra Life

It's with this awful news that we have to move forward with something that is positive and started a long time ago. It looks like there will be no good time to announce this, but Trish is helping me up the ante for this year's Extra Life fundraising campaign.

You might remember I've participated in Extra Life, a 24-hour gaming marathon, each of the past two years. Every cent of money donated to my page goes to the Alberta Children's Hospital in Calgary, which primarily serves all of southern Alberta. The things they've done for us are incredible, and have made Dominic's journey so much easier to bear.

The first year we raised $4,300. Last year, $8,100. Combined in 2014, Team Medicine Hat raised $15,000.

I folded Team Medicine Hat into the Extra Life Alberta Children's Hospital team this year. But our sub-team is still strong. And if we meet a couple goals Trish has agreed to do a couple incredible things.

If we can raise $10,000, she'll cut at least a foot of hair off and donate it to a program such as Locks for Love.

If we get to $20,000, she'll shave her head.

Game day is Nov. 7. Please share the following link with everyone you can. Let's give back.


  1. So sad to hear this for your family and your tough little guy. Not sure if you are religious but we are (somewhat). A few expressions I think about "Be still and know that God is God" and "Let Go, Let God" comes to mind. I hope you can maintain hope through this and know that this won't define, and there is a greater good happening and your little boy is a miracle.

  2. We think of your family ALL the time. Your story keeps us motivated to do fundraising for the Alberta Childrens Hospital, it reminds us why we are doing it.

  3. I feel so sad for all of you. For sweet, brave Dom, who has already been through so much in his life. For you and Trish, suffering with him all the way, now facing the outcome you have been dreading. Nothing about that makes sense to me. So all I can do is hope for small things. I hope you can go to Florida. I hope Dom can be comfortable, not just for his sake, but because I can't imagine much worse for you and Trish if he isn't. I hope you know how many people you've never met are wishing this wasn't happening. I hope you'll ask if there's anything perfect strangers can do (other than donate to Extra Life). I hope your bravery is something you are proud of, if not now, one day. I hope this part of your sweet boy's journey is as easy as possible for him and everyone who loves him.

  4. You are amazing! We are all brothers and sisters on this path. Thank you for loving your beautiful boy and each other through this. This could be (and in many ways is) any of us. Please share what you feel called to during this time. You are an amazing family. Sending love and blessings.

  5. Your posts and your family have touched the hearts of SO, so many people, many more than you may even realize. Dom and your family are such an inspiration to everyone, everywhere. It's a reminder of life, grace, importance of love, humor, priorities, family, and understanding.
    Please enjoy the small moments in the coming days, trip or not, hoping you are able to make more memories. Everyone is rooting for you.

  6. I don't know your family. But I have followed your story from the beginning. And this seriously breaks my heart. I am almost in tears as I write this. I wish I knew what to say. I wish I knew how to take your pain away, but I know I can't. I just want to let you know, that I am thinking of your family, as many others are, and I pray for your family.

  7. I'm heartbroken for little Dom and for you and Trish and wish things were turning out very differently. I can't imagine what you're going through but please know that so many people like me who have been following your journey are thinking of the three of you and wishing Dom as much comfort and peace as possible. The way Dom and the both of you have fought this battle is truly incredible and an inspiration. Hoping you can enjoy the tender moments in the coming days. Sending strength and love.