Knowing the facts, hating the facts.

Dear Mom,


"Early diagnosis and treatment of acute promyelocytic leukemia (APL), the M3 subtype of acute myeloid leukemia (AML), is important because patients with APL may develop serious blood-clotting or bleeding problems."

"APL is one of the most frequently cured AML subtypes."

"About 70% to 90% of patients with APL are cured with treatment."



I know that there is nothing that anyone could have done to save you. The cancer hit you hard, and unbelievably fast. I mean, you hear of people having a few months to live, maybe even a few weeks to live. Never do you hear, "Your mom has been diagnosed with Leukemia, and she won't make it through the night."

I've read the facts, looked up statistics, studied the disease. But nothing ever makes it make any more sense. Nothing ever explains to me why your case of cancer ended your life so soon. Why you didn't get more time. Why you didn't get to say goodbye. 

What went from you calling me saying you'd be in the hospital for 30 days, to you going unconscious and never waking up, is a nightmare I pray no one else will ever have to go through.

But it does happen. Cancer diagnoses happen every day. 

I've been passion about the American Cancer Society way before you left us. But obviously my reason to fight back has grown stronger. And I will never stop fighting. Not til 854,790 turns into 0. 

If you're reading this, know you CAN make a difference in helping change those numbers. Join American Cancer Society's effort in finding a cure, and help us all celebrate more birthdays. We can do our part in fighting and BEATING the battle of cancer. 

Please visit my personal fundraising page for Relay for Life for more information, and even to make a contribution for an amazing cause.

Also know that anything can happen, in an instant. You've all heard "life is short" and "you don't know what you have until it's gone," but believe me... the worst can happen. So love the ones in your life and hold them close now, since you have the chance. 

You may not have survived your second battle Mom, but you will always be a fighter in my eyes.

Love you more than you know. 

               Love your baby doll,

               Tessy Loo Loo

Your gift

Dear Mom,

Two posts in one day! Aren't you lucky?
Alright, this is one of my tribute posts. About a year and a half ago, I posted one of my favorite pictures of you, the one with you holding a doll. Your beauty ceases to amaze me. Seriously, you are so angelic in that photo. 
Anyway, Jeremy Chase posted a comment on that photo. That little booger posted one of the most heartfelt pieces of writing ever written to me. I immediately typed it out on a word doc with the photo, printed it out, and it's been hanging in my room back home ever since. 
So, obviously I was going to post it here. I just didn't realize I hadn't done so already. 

Dec 11 2011
Looking at this doll, she knew someday that God would send her a gift. To be a mother, a carer, a provider, a friend.
She knew what would come would be a big grand adventure.
And girl was she right.
Most days were filled with laughter, some with tears, but she never feared 'cause happiness was just around the corner.
Unfortunately, there was a sad time in all our lives, when she had to pass on
She was taken, but is not gone, for she lives through every person see knew
And the best thing she left us on this earth was her gift, which was you.
By: Jeremy Chase.

Yeah, he's a pretty special dude. I realize more and more how thankful I am for him. One of the BEST things that came out of being best friends with Nathan was getting close with his family, especially Joome.

Sorry Jeremy. I try not to be all cutesy cutesy because I know you dislike it. I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate our friendship, and that I am forever grateful to have you in my life. Thank you. <3

So Mom, I think both of today's posts prove something very special:

I have amazing people in my life. With them, the hard times are very much cushioned. And I know you know I am in safe hands down here. I have just been extra thankful lately. 

                 Love your babydoll,

                 Tessy Loo Loo

& I can't wait

Dear Mom,

Last Friday should have been hard. I should have been crying myself to sleep. I should have stayed in bed. I should have been numb, not wanting to so anything.
But that didn't happen. You taught me better than that.
I'm not saying it gets easier. That I don't miss you. No, it definitely still hurts not having you here. But I know that it will always hurt. Thirty years from now, when my kids are in college, it will hurt. When I'm a crazy old lady dancing at my grandkid's wedding, I will miss you. This will never go away, and I know that.
Do I guess Friday was just a day of reflection. Although there was a lull of sadness that gloomed over, I tried to think on the bright side. Having tons of people reaching out to me worked wonders. Although it sucks not having you here, MAN are there a lot of people here who love us to no end.
It brought me back to that night in the hospital. Although it was the worst night of my life, looking around the waiting room, I knew I was in safe hands. Even on that I night I knew that everything was going to be okay.
So I guess as time passes by, it really has become less about hurting at how long I've been without you, and turning into longing and anxiousness about when I will see you again. Because even if its a long ways off, it will be worth the wait.


                Love your baby doll,
                Tessy loo loo

Eggs, bunnies, & jelly beans.

Dear Mom,

I love the springtime. The sun is finally back out, with occasional rain to keep everything green. I get to spend time with loved ones over break, and believe me, it's always much needed. 
But there's always a shadow of sadness around this time of year. Remembering Easter 4 years ago isn't always the most fun. It's all kind of a blur. I had gone to Lou and Mary's, and we didn't get back until like 6am. I remember getting up at 8am because Bub called. Soon after, Tricia, Curtis, Nate (Cruz), and Norma came by the house. Then Dayna, Sara, and a few others I can't remember. Then I went to cousin Mary's for Easter stuff, although no one was really celebrating. Then I don't remember anything until everyone coming to Laura's house that night. And I mean everyone. 
It's nice as the years have passed that I can spend a happy day at home, not thinking about all this stuff as much. I mean, it doesn't matter what holiday it is; I always miss you and wish you were there. But at least now I can have fun with the kids and it's a more enjoyable holiday. I am thankful for how far I've come. It's nice not being sad all the time. 
Easter with you was always weird but it still brings a smile to my face. I think you made me find easter eggs at my house every year, even our last easter together freshman year. I was mortified, hoping no one saw my 14-year-old self hunting for candy. But I did it anyway, knowing you had gone through all that trouble. 
I guess this entry is going to be shorter than I though. I just wanted to let you know that although this time of year doesn't always bring back the fondest memories, I can still be thankful for the time I have at home, and I'm thankful for the good memories that also come to mind.

Love you more than you know.


               Love your baby doll,
               Tessy Loo Loo

"A New Reason to Mourn on Easter."

Dear Mom,

I have decided to resurface this (digging it out from the prehistoric facebook "notes") after writing this over three years ago for my english composition class. Mary texted me asking me if she could read this out loud at tomorrow night's Relay team captain's meeting. I guess the captains were told to share their stories of why they relay, and she remembered that I wrote this.
I have the original paper somewhere in my room, with my grade (A+, sheesh, it better have been!) and a very eloquent and thoughtful note from Mr. Peters. He told me to cherish my story. Well, hear I am, cherishing it, and sharing it once again.

Note to readers: this is not a light read. Only read if you have time/the courage to read a 5 page paper about the worst night of my life. Grab some tissues.


Tess Kelly
Mr. Peters
AP Composition
9 September, 2009
A New Reason to Mourn on Easter
No one ever expects the worst to happen. For me, having to face the doom of having everything that was ever familiar to me in life, shattered, at only fifteen; well, it was not exactly my cup of tea. Still, my mind often drifts back to that night, in an attempt to remember how things used to be, even if it means going through that pain all over again.
It was early April, and I had just finished up another play. Mom and I were both pretty exhausted, after all the hustle and bustle. Mom woke up that Monday with the stomach flu, a really bad case of it. It got to the point where she couldn’t even walk from her bedroom to the bathroom without getting winded. She threw up constantly, and was living on Sprite Zero. Me being the selfish teenager I was, I didn’t think anything of it, until her best friend Nancy started nagging her to go see a doctor. It wasn’t until that Friday, when her boss screamed at her, that she finally gave in. We went to Pinnacle Urgent Care, but had to come back the next morning.
Mom had driven herself home, while Nancy’s son Danny and I went to the movies. I came back home, and the door was locked, and the light was off. I was so confused and couldn’t find her anywhere. I called Nancy in a panic. I went back outside and saw her; she was in the car, taking a nap. “It’s more comfortable in here,” she had said. I dragged her inside, now seeing that this was a lot more serious than I thought. I fell asleep to her wheezing in the next room.
She couldn’t even dress herself in a timely manner. I had to wake her up, and it took her at least twenty minutes just to change her clothes. She didn’t even remember to tie her shoes, so I had to tie them for her when we were in the waiting room. I was trying so hard to ignore how bad she looked. She couldn’t think straight at all. I was trying to tell her a funny story, and she had barely acknowledged that I had spoken. I was heartbroken.
PUC sent us straight to the ER, where they put her in an uncomfortable bed that she complained about. I couldn’t stand to see her in there, so I stayed outside most of the time. Still in a daze, I went to her friend Janet’s house to take a shower so I could go prom dress shopping with my best friend Jamie. I went into Mom’s room and said I love you, and she said it back.
I got a call about an hour later from her. She told me that they were moving her to Stanford to run some tests, and that she would have to stay there for a little while. With tears in my eyes and a forced cheerful voice, I said okay, and said that I loved her, and she said it back.
I worried about her when I went shopping, but not too much. I told everyone to call me if absolutely anything went wrong. So when no one called in those six hours, I felt at ease. I wasn’t called until around nine o’clock on my way home, from Mary, Nancy’s sister, who had followed the ambulance up to Stanford. I told her that I would just go up to the hospital after Easter brunch the next day, because I was burnt out. I figured it wouldn’t be a big deal since she was going to be there for awhile, and I hated being in hospitals.
Two minutes later, I got a call from my Uncle Jim from Turlock. “Honey, you need to come tonight. Your mom is really sick.” Those weren’t exactly words I could go home to.
By the time I got there, it was nearly eleven, and I was frantic. I had texted by friend Gabe, so scared for the unknown, and he assured me “Everything will be all right. Stanford is a really good hospital, and they’re going to take care of her.”
Having that in mind, I was not ready for the big news that was about to be laid on me.
I finally was allowed to see Mom, but before they let me, Mary warned me of what she would look like, so I wouldn’t be as scared when I came into her room. “She’s on a respirator to help her breathe, and she has tubes with blood coming out of her, and medicine going in.”
I couldn’t stand this, so I broke down. As the tears ran down my face, I tried to keep myself from picturing her as a sick person. How could that be? Just hours ago she was fine. My mom had to be fine. She just had to be.
I sat down in the waiting room, as more people filtered in to be with me. Janet, Mary, and Nancy went in to see Mom and to talk to her doctor. My greatest fears that haunted me on the way to the hospital weren’t going to be all in my head anymore.
Three of them surrounded me, took my hands, and held me. “Should we tell her?” asked Mary. They returned nods with teary eyes.
Mary sighed. “Mom has been diagnosed with Leukemia. She’s bleeding in her stomach, and her brain. She has a very special case, and they’ve been trying everything,” she paused, “but they don’t think she’s going to make it through the night. I’m so sorry sweetie.”
I felt my whole body grow numb. Everything became blurry, as I went into hysterics. Nancy held me close as I screamed uncontrollably “She can’t leave me! It isn’t true!” No matter how many times they said “Of course she won’t leave you. She will always be with you,” I couldn’t stop crying. One minute I thought she was staying in the hospital for a few days, the next she was going to die. How could this happen to me?
Somehow, I was able to drag myself to her hospital room. There were a couple of nurses in there, who looked up and smiled warmly. And there she was. Yellowed skin, tape over her mouth where tubes were hooked up, discolored hair. It was unreal; to see someone so who used to be so full of life, now slowly slipping away and turning into a memory, right before my eyes.
I went by her side, pulled up a chair, and careful stroked her hand. It felt smaller now; puffed up and scaly. I was almost afraid to touch her, but I knew I wanted to cherish these last moments with her.
Soon they kicked everyone out so that they could try their very last option, which was to try one session of chemotherapy. Meanwhile, the doctor called for a family meeting, to explain in detail what was going on. All twelve of us, four relatives, seven “extended family members,” and I squeezed into the conference room, listening to the doctor’s details of mom’s condition. Mom had a special case of Acute Promyelocytic Leukemia. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t keep up with all the blood she was losing, and not even the quadrupled medication doses could save her. There was nothing they could do, except make her last night as comfortable as possible. All I could do was sit there, nod my head, and hold back the tears.
Even when I went back to her room, I kept the tears back. With the beeping monitor, the numbers getting progressively lower by the minute; my random spasm jumps from nerves; people coming in and out to see her; nothing would stop me from being strong for her in her last moments on Earth. This was our last night, and it was going to be perfect.
It broke my heart to see her suffering in that last hour. All the while, I held her hand, adjusted her blankets, kissed her hand, yelled at the nurse whenever blood dripped from the tubes onto her delicate skin. I was so torn apart. I couldn’t stand her leaving me, before I had even turned sixteen, without sharing all the things I wanted her to in my life. I would be without her graduating high school and college, getting married, having children. I couldn’t comprehend the thought of all this. But, the unselfish side of me kept whispering to her softly, “Go on Mom. Go. I’ll be fine. It’s okay. Let yourself go. It’s time.”
I just kept looking back at the screen, expecting for the beeping to rise in high intervals all of a sudden, just in like all those hospital shows. But, before I knew it, the nurse calmly stated “Now, she has passed.”
My world turned upside down. I immediately let go of her hand, and ran to my uncle and sobbed. No one can ever know the pain that I felt, at fifteen years old, at two o’clock in the morning on Easter Sunday, when my mother just died of Leukemia, when she was diagnosed with it just twelve hours before. It created such physical pain to my nerves and heart, and face wait drenched with tears.
An hour later, I was sitting in the completely full waiting room. I said aloud, “You know, I don’t think she could have ever imagined that this many people would have come.” The whole room warmly agreed, reflecting on how modest she had always been. I felt so blessed, to be surrounded by a whopping fifteen loved ones, who I knew were going to take care of me. Even on my darkest day, I somehow knew that everything was going to be okay.
It was then that I went back to say goodbye to her. She looked so beautiful, now without all the tubes. She looked peaceful, and was even smiling slightly. I cried softly as I told her how much she meant to me, that I would be forever grateful to everything she’s ever done to me, and that I wouldn’t let her down. I kissed her hand, said I love you, and let go. I let her go, knowing that someday, I would be reunited with my one true hero, in that big musical in the sky.



Looking back on this, I am so incredibly glad I shared this story. Although this isn't a good memory, it keeps your memory alive. Also, I'm annoyed reading the awkward sentence structure, and mentally adding in details that I had to delete to keep the paper to 5 pages.

To anyone reading this, please call up your parents or caregivers and tell them you love them. It's horrible to think in a mindset like this, but you never know when the people you love will be taken from you. So make your last memory with them a good one.

I love you so much Mom. This goes without saying. But, I will always hold close in my heart what our last words to each other were.




                Love your babydoll,                Tessy Loo Loo

Somber morning dreams.

Dear Mom,

When I went back to bed this morning, I had the weirdest dream. A whole bunch of us went to the movies, but I couldn't figure out what was going on. I was being antisocial or something. The movie and Nancy and someone else wanted to see, you had already seen, so we decided to watch 27 Dresses, or was it Valentine's Day? Something that I own, so it really didn't make sense why we would pay money to see one and not the other. Anyway, I went to grab seats in the balcony of that theatre (some fancy movie theatre) and waited there the entire movie, but you and someone else had already grabbed seats on the main level. I was very angry! We got out of our movie and you went home, walking and talking with someone else and I couldn't get your attention.
I waited for the other movie to get out, which I guess actually was a 4 hour disney movie, that kind of reminded me of Epic Mickey, but when the theatre door opened it looked like colors of the wind from Pocahontas. So i had to wait there for another hour before Danny, Ashlyn, Laura, and I don't remember who else, to get out. 
I woke up confused. And angry, because I wanted to hang out with you some more. I think you were ignoring me because I shouldn't have been sleeping, if I'm so stresseed about with school and work. As I probably should be working on my project right now, and not writing this. 
See, this is why I have grown a hatred for sleeping in. I don't mind as much now, but a few years ago it freaked me out. I didn't want to see you in my going-back-to-sleep-super-weird-over-the-top dreams. I knew if I decided to fall back asleep in the morning, that's when I would dream about you. 
Now I cherish those dreams. Seeing you in my sleep is better than not seeing you at all. Even if it's only for a few minutes. 
I miss you. <3


                Love your babydoll,
                Tessy Loo Loo

I had the best day with you today.

Dear Mom,

So today gave me inspiration to write a more, hmm.. inspiring post than my last one. What a debbie downer I was, starting off the first blog of the new year with gloom! But hey, it happens. And now I am writing to talk about what a great start of the year it has been. 

I just got out of my Intro to Disabilities class, and I must say that I am quite inspired! I spoke to my professor after class, and she told me I could use my volunteer hours I need to complete for class in a way that is more useful. She ended up giving me the number of a friend of hers, who is the founder of a speech pathology center here in the city. Hopefully things work out where I can get class credit for working in my future field! Or at least be in close contact with it.

Today was just a really good day. Another being that I heard back from Susan from Be the Match. I am officially donating again! My recipient isn't on the recovery level they want her to be, so I am donating my t cells (I believe?) This essentially means that I will be doing another all-day hospital day, but without the shots that made me woozy and achey. Which is great since I am in school! The only iffy part is that I will be at a different hospital. I am sure Alta Bates is a great facility; I just created a safe zone and comfortability with UCSF. I will be meeting with their staff on monday, though, so that makes me feel a lot better! 

And honestly, I have no reason to be nervous. After all, I"ve already done this. I guess it's just a little unsettling, thinking you had done your part, then being told that you need to do it again. Not that it's a drag. It's just something I need to do. I'm just glad that my veins will be happy and healthy, now that I will have food in my stomach without all those silly drugs! 

It's on days like these, when things fall into place, that I feel like I have my purpose. I feel a need to be right here, doing what I'm doing. Oh gosh, my song for you "You'll Be there" just started playing on my ipod. Great timing! When good things happen, things that make me think that I am so blessed to have these opportunities, that I really feel like I am doing what I am supposed to be doing, I feel you. I feel your warmth, your support. That undying love is something that I know will last forever. And on days like these, I feel at my best. Because I know you're proud of me. I always knew you were proud of me, but reminders like these feel great. 

"Sometimes it seems like I don't have a prayer, let the weather take me anymore, but I know I wanna go where the streets are gold cuz you'll be there.." George Strait knows what he's talking about.

Speaking of George Strait, I am going to be bawling at his concert on Friday!!!!! I know I am not going to be getting much sleep this week since I am too freaking excited! I was thinking about all the songs that I hope he'll sing.. but honestly, he can't go wrong with any set! Of course his work from the 90's are probably my favorite, but just being in the same vicinity as him will be a dream come true! With my best friends by my side, and you will be there too I'm sure. 

I love you Mom. I know you will be there with me on donation day, helping me stay calm (and keeping  auntie calm! I think she might have been more nervous than me last time.) I just hope that everything goes well so that this journey can come to an end, and I can be another step closer to hearing that my recipient is 100% cancer free and recovered. 

I love how I quoted T Swift in the title but talked about George Strait. Oh well, they both remind me of you. Music can do amazing things. 

Miss you. <3


               Love your baby doll,
               Tessy Loo Loo