I asked her why they had come, and the girl started telling me about the swelling in her stomach. I asked her some questions and then asked her to lay down so I could examine her. As soon as I put my hands on her stomach, I knew we were too late. The huge mass I felt in her abdomen was going to be too big for us to do anything, it had been growing for months and months, but for various reasons, this was the first time they came to see us. Despite knowing we were too late, I took her to the US room to do an ultrasound. I found this huge mass, not attached to her kidney or liver or anything else. I wondered if it might be lymphoma - I wondered only because we have a chance to treat it. Not knowing if I was trying to treat myself, because in less than 5 minutes I grew to really care about this girl and didn't want her to die from this mass, I went to get Bill's opinion about if we should try chemo. I started to describe her by saying she was "cute." There is something about cute kids (really all kids), something that pulls at my heart, something that makes me try to do everything we possibly can for them - and she was one of these cute ones. Unfortunately, Bill came to the same conclusion my hands made, but that my heart and mind didn't want to face.
Knowing there was no treatment or cure to offer her or her family, I took them back to my room to try and explain what was going on. As I walked back into my room, and looked at them, I just started crying, because I had to tell this girl, who was 9, but talked and acted so much older, and had this amazing smile - that she didn't have long for this earth. I cried, she cried and yet she seemed to understand the words I was able to form. We prayed and I hugged her, knowing that would be the last time I saw her on this side of eternity.
Next didn't come easily after my time with Susan. Pray for her and her family during this difficult Holiday time.
