We are at Hospital 2, the Children's Cancer Clinic, having already had radiation at 7:30 am at Hospital 1.
They knock LW out for radiation, since it's pretty hard to get an almost-3 year old to hold still in a dark, loud room. Which means no eating beforehand. Accordingly, we stopped downstairs and got a chocolate donut and chocolate milk for her, coffee and bagel for me.
She has eaten all of her donut, then demanded the rest of my bagel. Whoo-hoo! Eat it up, kiddo.
We checked in, then sat down to eat. I said something about how we are "at clinic." I want her to have a frame of reference, you see. To know where we are.
"No, Mama," she corrected me, furrowing up her forehead. "THIS IS THE DONUT STORE."
Works for me.
I'm not sure why this post got to me...maybe it's because I can remember my own girls giving me *that look* and telling me how it is, even when they were three. We did our own junket to Cancer World a few years ago, so I have some idea of how hard this can be. I just wanted to let you know that you've got one more intermaginary friend pulling for you and yours.
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