Monday, 20 March 2017

21st of Trisomy 2017

Golly! It's our fifth 21st of Trisomy with Jacinta in the family.

I find it amusing that my attitude to the whole business changes with each passing year, as my perspective changes.

The first year I didn't even know it was on and the next year she had leukaemia, so I didn't care. Then the next year I blogged early, then I think last year I actually blogged on time! So here I am, theoretically blogging on time, though it's still early in the day and anything might happen between here and the next paragraph to throw me off course until tomorrow.

So instead of waxing lyrical about some very important and serious topic, which I actually started to do and then deleted the whole thing,  I'm going to share my favourite two videos which were made just for today.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o0VV3C_ydak

This one features teens with T21 showing you, graphically, what exactly a Trisomy of the 21st chromosome is.   Highly enjoyable and informative, if slightly disturbing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kNMJaXuFuWQ

And this one is the super cool video that just cannot be explained. Not so much informative as hilarious.


Monday, 13 March 2017

So, how's kinder going?

Now that's a question!

It finally arrived. The day was finally here. Jacinta was starting kinder/preschooll!

Up until the day before she would answer 'yes' to being excited about it. The night before, we started to get some shaking of the head, some 'nooo', and on the morning itself, she was slightly inconsolable. (Because, no, inconsolable is not an absolute....)

The subject of kinder was banned, by an emphatic 'no' and a face palm any time it was mentioned - by anyone, all day - which is a tricky situation when everyone you see knows it was your first day and wants to know how it went!

I really did want to get that shot of the kinder kid with her bag on, leaving house - or entering kinder, hell, even leaving kinder - anything! She pretty much refused to touch her bag the entire time. There was one moment when her hands did make contact with it, when she put it in her locker. It was such a quick moment, I got this photo....

All done!

So from then it was fine. She washed her hands, went to the painting easels, put on a smock, did her first masterpiece, then happily said goodbye to me.


Unfortunately about half a dozen other kids were all going off at once, crying inconsolably (an absolute, in this instance), so when she had the wavering bottom lip as I neared the door, she lost it. I waved her goodbye through the window, as I had done with my middlest, but it didn't do the trick.

An hour later when I was having coffee with another mum whose son was also there, I noticed I had just missed a call asking me to come back because she'd been crying the whole time. I called straight back only to be told she'd now cried herself to sleep (awesome) so we decided I'd wait on call and see how it went. It was only another hour til pickup.

When I arrived back she was still in the arms of an educator but not crying, so that was something.
Here is she ready to leave.....
AKA running for the door....
The next couple of weeks were less upsetting each time. She was still upset at me leaving, but got used to it more and more quickly.
Then the next week the educators decided to begin the day outside - and everything changed!
Straight out, hat on, 'bye Mum', no tears, and off I went. Two weeks of that and it appears we're all settled in. Time will only tell.

So she's loving the arts and crafts and the home corner. No surprises there.  By all reports she is doing what all the other kids do - most of the time. She has been caught trying to let herself outside to the playground once or twice (no surprises there either), but has come back to the group without much fuss. She knows the routine, comes in, puts her lunchbox and drink bottle on the trolley, puts her bag in her locker (I was impressed that she remembered the number and/or the picture on hers without any prompting), uses the toilet, washes her hands and off she goes. At the end of the day she goes off and gets her bag - and anything that's fallen out of it - and brings it back to me which helps reduce the crowd around the bags.

And with friendships, I guess we'll see. Only a few of the kids are actually talking to each other from what I've seen so far, so we'll see how it all goes.

And, you'll be pleased to know, I did get that picture - eventually!








Thursday, 26 January 2017

4!!

Where did that go??


I swear it was not four years ago that I sat in a wheelchair in the special care nursery and heard the words 'facial features consistent with Down syndrome' - and wrote off the next 6 years of my life.

Honestly, I don't think I shared any photos like this at the time - too 'clinical features'! 
What I thought was that I was putting life as I knew it aside, settling for a tough life of hard work and no fun, for at least the next while.

Because, let's be real. If there was a magic pill that would undo the effects of the Trisomy on Chromosome 21 (and it was completely without side effects) we'd grab it, no questions. As far as we're concerned, if Jacinta had a body that worked properly it would be much easier for her true self to shine through, without being hampered by difficulties all the time, which from all appearances is incredibly frustrating. (There's a lot of screaming going on lately. It'll pass....)

So looking back on the past four years, I can see that it's been completely different to what I expected. The first 9 months or so were fairly predictable - it was rough trying to get her fed for the first 3-4 months before the heart surgery and it was hard to live with myself, putting her through it - no matter how much it's for her own good.

Still, those first 9 months were miles better than I expected. I remember when she was going off to hospital without me, waving her little hand, I had high expectations for her. Then when I first saw her in the new hospital the next day, she was in a fog. She was all floppy and sort of bloated, and barely conscious. I really couldn't see who she was, which made it difficult to relate to her. I was expecting a hard slog.

I remember being so pleased during that first week when the Intensive Care nurse who'd been looking after her mentioned that she'd been hiccuping quite a lot, and I was able to say "Yes, she does that a lot." because she'd been doing it all the time in utero. I think that was the first time, during those first few days when the nurses had spent more time with her than I had and knew her better than me, that I really felt like we did know each other and we did belong together.




Then it was a few days later when Maria came to do NAET with Jacinta in the hospital and after a couple of treatments, it was like the lights switched on and she was open for business. At that point I could see she had a sense of humour, which is really all I require in a child of mine - that and a good capacity for conversation.

And now we're here! Where on earth did those four years go??!!

So Miss Jacinta is now about 88cm tall and around 16kg (metric system) and is walking and doing the trotting run that toddlers do. For her birthday she got a balance bike. She has a love-hate relationship with said bike, which is awfully cool and exciting, but seems to buck her off when she's wearing a voluminous dress or no shoes. Work in progress.

This has been a very exciting Christmas. Not only did she choose presents for her siblings and parents (as she always does), but she was able to say who they were for - because she can say all of our names now! My middlest and eldest shall henceforth be known as 'Yaya' and "Eneminee". Not only that, she hid them in her room, wrapped them with a little help (sticky tape) from me when no-one else was looking, put them under the tree herself and - left all the presents alone!!! I couldn't quite believe it but for the first time in many years in our house all the presents sat under the tree for several days and not one was cracked open even a tiny bit!

Her speech is taking off again - possibly due to the hearing device, although she's not wearing it as much as we'd like since it's been a bit problematic with feedback and less effective when turned down. I'm now noticing that the burbling utterances she makes at appropriate times more and more sound like appropriate phrases - and when I get them right (such as this afternoon at the supermarket when she pointed to a favoured grocery item and said "put that one in" i.e. in the trolley) she beams and nods her head and says an emphatic "yes" - with an 's' and everything!

Another milestone - she's worked out how to take photos with my phone. We're now into the 'taking photos of my shoes and bits of Mummy' phase. Her first photo was of the Clown Doctors at the hospital, who highly enjoyed posing for her shots - possibly straining their backs in the process of getting their heads in the frame.

Jacinta is very aware of where she fits in. She wants to be included and most of the time if she's crying in the house suddenly it'll be with her face in her hands, weeping because she's been told she can't play with the older sisters. It's quite a frustration for me to see that since my middlest started school the age gap between her and Jacinta has widened so much, when there's actually a bigger age gap between 1-2 than between 2-3. Frustrating also when one thing I really don't want Jacinta to get used to is exclusion and feeling different. I know it'll come up in the future, but I do like to think that the one place you'll always feel you belong is at home, and being always stuck with your parents is nobody's idea of fun. Anyway, I look forward to getting that crystal ball so I can see how it'll all play out.

Almost every day she's doing something new that we didn't know she could do. The other night her older sister and younger cousin put on an impromptu acrobatics show and she jumped up and joined in with a couple of moves we've never seen her do before - and which are really good for her physical development, so woohoo!

She sings a variety of songs now, including the Peppa Pig theme tune (snorts included) and the song "Apples and Bananas" which just so happens to be the name of one of her  Wiggles DVDs...... (very convenient)

I think my favourite thing I've seen her do lately was on her birthday. Up until this year she hasn't had the puff to blow. Before her recent heart op she had started blowing bubbles in drinks with a straw (and getting in trouble for it) and I'm pretty sure that since the operation she's had more puff than before.

With all my kids who haven't blown out candles before I have done a dry run with a sing of Happy Birthday and then cue them to blow so they know what to do. Every year until now she's not had enough air to get them out, but this year a couple of days before her birthday I did it and she blew the candle out straight away, with no hesitation or difficulty.

It was so sweet to see her blow the candles out this year, not only because she could actually do it and tick off another milestone, but because she took each candle individually and blew.....each.....one ....out, very very carefully. Thank goodness she only turned four!

It really is amazing to watch Jacinta go about her business. She's still determined to do everything herself, or at least attempt it before getting help. Woe betide anyone who tries to treat her like a baby!
She is very good at estimating danger at certain times - carparks excluded.... She loves opening and shutting the car door, the house door, the bathroom door etc and it amazes me that no matter how quickly she does it (and I freak out slightly on the inside expecting broken fingers), she is actually really careful to ensure her fingers are out of danger each time. I don't know why I expect her to be sloppy and careless - perhaps unaware - but it's in there, and she surprises me often by being very sensible. Maybe it's because she's still so cuuuute!

This is a really unusual sight these days.

And in a few short weeks she starts kinder. She's going in with the 3 year-olds who will start turning four this year. This means she'll start school at six, all going well, which is perfect. She's so ready to get out and make more friends and it's high time she did.

See you in a couple of weeks!




Monday, 19 December 2016

Vale Jules Watson

Sometimes I feel compelled to write a reactionary post. Usually these are for venting purposes.
Once or twice, I've felt compelled to write about a loss, and this is one of those times.

Back in early 2015 a friend of mine shared a blog post, from Five Fairies and a Fella http://fivefairiesandafella.com
I don't remember exactly which post it was, but from Jules' turn of phrase and her absolute spunky fighting attitude, I was instantly in her corner on her fight to live, when all stats said she wouldn't.

Jules and I have a few things in common, though my fairies are younger and one fewer, we each have a youngest with a Trisomy.  A mother by occupation, who had something to say, with words as her instrument and who wasn't backing down from the idea that she would just survive, even if it was not supposed to be possible.

What I loved most about Jules is that from all I have read it appears that she was very much in the same place I am just a couple of years ago, yet she decided at one point not to be scared anymore. She decided on what was important to her and began, by ticking off items on her bucket list I suppose, to actually live her life the way she had always wanted to.

She obviously began blogging, she threw herself into her writing, finished her tertiary studies.  By the time I had been following her a year, she had beaten the odds several times, not died at least once, and published a book - travelling the country to promote it. (It was such a pleasure to brighten her day during one rough moment by sharing a picture of her book on display at my local library.)

Of all the people I have met on Facebook and never met in real life, she is the one who will stay with me, because she left an indelible mark on me. She could have been me, and when you have so much in common with someone you feel what happens to them in such a real way.

Because of Jules I will be working on creating memories for my children while I am fit and well.
Because of Jules I will write down my thoughts for my daughters while I think them.
Because of Jules I will grant importance to my own dreams and goals and start living the life I actually want to live.
Because of Jules I will not let something go if I sense there is something not right with my body, but I will get it checked, because not being around for my children is a much scarier thought than any diagnosis might be.

I am sad that I never got to meet Jules. I really think we would have had a good time.
I feel for her Fella and Fairies, so much. Words seem empty, when trying to convey an understanding of the emptiness that Jules' loss must have left in its wake. I send them all the love I can muster.

And so Vale Jules, you defied the odds so many times. If anyone could beat it, you could. Maybe no-one can. You grabbed life by the horns and lived that life like it was going out of style. You will be remembered. Not just by those who knew you, but by those who would have liked to, if things were different. You made a difference and you left your mark. Fare well.


The post-surgery update.

Well, we made it to Reception J on time and managed to arrive with a fasting, but not uncomfortable Jacinta.
It's always better to have sisters there before surgery because you can giggle and have fun rather than sit there worried.
One good thing about having done it all before is that you have pretty good prediction on how long it will all take and when you'll be going in. The first time she had heart surgery I thought 7am meant a 7am op - or thereabouts. Ha! Not so much. More like 8.30. It's handy to know that when you have to keep kids entertained.

So we took family photo with Jacinta and me gowned up to the nines. Then I took her through. It was when we were in the theatre that she saw the warming thingy on the bed, looked around and got her bearings that it all got real.
With a shake of the head that clearly said,"uh-uh" she indicated that she knows how this goes. To her credit, when I said,"yes, we have to", she settled on my lap watching Peppa Pig on my phone and let them put the gas mask on. One thing has changed,  they used to flavour the gas with strawberry or chocolate topping. Now they use lip balm - grape in this instance, on the anaesthetists's recommendation.

We went off to fill in the time. Apparently orange pancakes are now a thing and The Secret Life of Pets is too scary for some children. I wound up with more than one extra on my beanbag in the cinema downstairs.  Water tastes good with lemon, strawberry and cucumber infusion. The surgeon called as we were finishing lunch. Now he had said he would finish sometime early afternoon. He always SAYS that, but then I either get a call saying it will be another few hours, or I don' t get a call til late afternoon, because it was tricky and it's not perfect bit it will be ok.

I admit, when the phone rang at 1:26pm, I freaked out a bit. I was expecting to have to kill a few more hours, and an early phone call could not be good news.

But it was! The surgeon said it was easier than expected and the result was perfect. This means that the membrane should not grow back again. For context, I have never before heard the surgeon say the word 'perfect' without the word 'not' in front of it. I think he also said the word 'pleased'. These are not words he throws around with gay abandon.

She got back to ICU by about 3:30 which is the earliest ever and they started talking about waking her up that night, which never happens. This is how other people do cardiac surgery!
By the time I came in the next morning she was awake enough to see me and they had 'extubated' her. (Taken out the breathing tube) She wasn't super happy about life, but hey, she had just had her chest ripped open and bones broken and wired back together. That's fair enough! I did notice however that she didn't want to be touched or looked at, which is what happened the last time she had Fentanyl. She was given it this time too.

Then things happened very quickly. They said she could go to the ward that day. We were waiting, not on her recovery, but on a bed in the ward.  The first thing she told me was that she was thirsty, and she drank at least a cup of cordial (you go with whatever goes down in some scenarios) in about 2 minutes. After a few hours she had come out of the Fentanyl grumps and was eating food. She scratched at her chest a lot. She pulled out her oxygen prongs. Lucky she didn't need them anymore.

This was in stark contrast to her first ever surgery, where they gave her a day off and just let her rest. Both previous times she was still well under sedation at this point. Now she was up and about. We found a good spot that was comfortable, with me on the bed under her. I'm not sure how usual this is in Intensive Care,  judging by the surprised and amused looks we got from passers-by and visiting doctors.

We went to the ward that evening and despite her disagreement with changing spaces, she just got better. Every few hours they took things out. By the Thursday they had taken out her pacing wires and drains. This had never been done with her up and about, and it was one of the most harrowing things I've ever had to participate in. She was fasting for a very long time, because they wanted to use heavy sedation, and this meant she went in hungry and thirsty to do a thing which scared the hell out of her. Then for the rest of the afternoon while she wanted to sleep she was made (by me) to go downstairs and do a chest X-ray (because we had to).

 By the end of all this, we just wanted to go home. She was over being touched, she had pulled out her NG tube which meant oral meds from then on, she disliked almost everyone who came into the room. Another room change meant we were in the low maintenance section but she did not agree with changing rooms again. Thankfully a Skype call to home meant she could relax again.

And then, on the Friday, they sent us home. I think I was packed before the doctors even came around.  It's interesting, the more we do hospital, the less we feel the need to be there. I remember the first time she went home I was a little nervous about how safe it was for us to be looking after her so soon after surgery (two weeks). Now, I am so over the nights spent in hospital, where the nurses pretty much have to do obs overnight, which almost always results in broken sleep for everyone, that I would rather look after her four days post-surgery by myself at home.

 I know that she will sleep better, will feel happier, and will have the food and drink she's used to plus the Peppa Pig DVD and whatever else she feels like doing to hand. You just get better faster at home. Everyone who knows hospitals agrees that if you don't need to be in hospital, it's better not to be there.  I did have some messages from friends saying 'don't rush home, make sure you rest', but the chances of rest are so much higher at home.

And you can drive to the mountains at your leisure and visit the Chocolaterie and Ice Creamery.....


Loooong trip to Emergency

Last Tuesday, Jacinta was recovering nicely from surgery and I was getting her dressed, when one look at her scar told me she needed to be checked in Emergency.

What had been beautifully scabbed was now scab-less and weepy. It seemed the edges were moving away from each other rather than closer together. I grabbed my bag and a snack and headed out the door, attempting to arrive soon enough to be out of there and home for school pickup.

Hahahahahahhahhahaaaaaaaa!

Now, we've done this before, twice. Once after the first surgery when some stitches must have stayed in and got infected. They gave us antibiotics and sent us home. Once during her admission from the second surgery when the end of the wound looked at bit infected. They took her into surgery and did a debridement (where they clean out old dead or yucky tissue - ewwww).

It didn't seem too bad to me so I was expecting a dose of antibiotics and to go home again. The surgeons had other ideas. They said they didn't think it was infected, but that we should stay overnight and have a look in the morning. I rearranged several meetings and a highly anticipated outing for that night. (Thankfully my eldest enjoys the ballet too...)

"Ah well", we said, and upstairs we went, expecting to be sent home the next morning.

The doctors came round and when they opened their mouths to say "you can go home", they must have got confused because "I think we'll take her in for a clean, if that's ok with you" came out instead. Every single person looking after us from that point had their money on us leaving that morning - maybe the surgeon was running the book!

So then we were fasting, and we were due for surgery around 3pm.
Now, due to issues when she had her surgery in 2015 Jacinta has a note on her file that she reacts to morphine and fentanyl.  These are both opiates. Morphine does the opposite of sedate her. She's firing on all cylinders after a hit of morphine. Fentanyl makes her inconsolable, not want to be touched, scratch everywhere, pull out wires and tubes. It turns our perfect patient, very cruisy young lady into someone who is having a serious meltdown, for several hours.

This is what happened in 2015. It was observed primarily by me. They apparently gave her some again in ICU this time and the reaction was less severe, but still there.  I don't know whether or not they attributed her changes to the drug since they don't know her normally. I do know that when I mentioned it was the fentanyl, nobody seemed particularly interested.

Anyway, when we reached the pre-op area they asked what her 'allergies' were (since she has a red name band) and when I mentioned the issue with fentanyl they said 'we'll be giving her fentanyl today' despite what I said. Sometimes there are issues with drugs that are used, where certain protocols are followed and changing them is complicated, so if they make a call that it needs to happen, I don't kick up a fuss since I'm not a fan of complicating things and inviting human error.

So she went off, it all went well, and then she came back.
Again, super thirsty. Wouldn't eat. Inconsolable, no hugs allowed (except from Daddy while he was there) scratching everywhere. Rubbing her eyes. Pulling at all the leads and her IV drip in her hand.

In the end I had to call the nurse in and request that some of the leads be taken off, since her heart rate was up, her respiration rate was low and these were not even right because she was nowhere near still, and pulling off the leads. I think she had ripped the wires out of the sticky spots and was removing her sats probe as fast as I could put it back on. It was absolutely pointless trying to monitor this, when the stickers and probes were part of the problem.

Thankfully the nurse was willing to take off as many as she could. She had to follow certain monitoring guidelines, but could see it was futile to keep everything on. I pointed out that Jacinta was seriously attempting to remove her IV. She had wanted to keep it in just in case it was needed, but made a judgement call to take it out, finding it was already half out when she did remove it.

Finally, about 7pm Jacinta settled down and had something to eat. The ward doctor had been called and she agreed with the nurse that it was an allergic reaction and it wasn't safe for her to be given it.  They gave her oxycodone (a cousin of morphine) and some zyrtec to help her settle and she stayed awake, exhausted but wired, until midnight. Looks like she's not a fan of opiates across the board (she's had zyrtec before).

The doctor started paperwork for Jacinta's reaction to be registered on record as an adverse drug reaction, which means that if anyone tries to prescribe it (which is all totally computer generated now) the computer won't let them. I think several staff couldn't quite believe that she was given it in the first place, and it felt weird to be the one being philosophical about it all.

But it's a bit of a sad fact of hospital life I suppose, one which the staff don't often see. If you as a parent observe something happening with your child, it is rare that someone will take your word for it  on the first instance without either ignoring it or questioning it. I usually takes several occurrences of a phenomenon for enough staff to observe it and do something about it. That's par for the course. I was surprised that the staff were treating it so seriously, until I realised that they had seen this and it had happened to them (particularly the nurse who barely left our room) and they had feelings and opinions about it.

I hear it was reported through internal channels. That was mentioned the next day when someone asked if it had been. Again, I was a little surprised it was getting so much attention, when it's no different in my mind from the time she was given a drug that should have been ceased and her BP crashed overnight and she had a MET call, or the times I queried drugs or doses being given and the nurses said 'oops, thanks for that'. It's just part of hospital life. We're a team and if I do my job and you guys do yours, we have the best outcome. Still, I appreciate the attention it was given. This is one of the premier children's hospitals in the world and they do pride themselves on doing things properly.

And they asked us if we wanted to go home.

We said, 'yes!'




Sunday, 27 November 2016

Ramping up for Monday

So we got the call on Friday to say that the operation that was in pencil for Monday is now in pen.
I wrote down the instructions, which haven't changed. I mentioned to the List Lady that I was happy to sign the consent form on Monday before she went under and was told, "Gee, youu're relaxed!" Meh, just practical.

Then we had the call from the surgeon - on speakerphone with three girls who were itching to get out of the car and meet their friends at the park - explaining that he won't just go in and snip the membrane, he'll also need to dissect from both sides and widen the dodgy valve to stop the flow from making the membrane build up again. More involved but no more risky, he says.

Bit of trivia: the most common side effect of cardiac surgery is infection. About 30% of cardiac surgery patients require antibiotics as part of recovery.  Another major side effect is brain damage. (Awesome) Apparently this is not common, but happens from time to time. I guess when people are stopping your heart and mucking around with it there's a chance the flow might get interrupted somewhere along the line.

So I decided we were going to squeeze as much fun into the next few days as we could, to make Jacinta so sick of fun she'll need a week of lying around in hospital to make up for it.

Who's ready for some FUN?

We started with the Challenge Christmas party. Challenge are an organisation who support the families of children with cancer or blood disorders. They run many fun events throughout the year, on top of the work they do in hospital and out. The Christmas party is amazing. You go to a racecourse and it's basically a free carnival with all the trimmings including food and drink, plus Santa who gives the kids a really cool present.
Would you believe I forgot to get a photo with Santa?
(To be honest, she enjoyed the slide more...)
We were so funned-out by the end of it Jacinta flaked in the car and my husband and I pretty much flaked when we got home. We had planned to go to another festival in the evening but opted for a 'family night in' which is code for 'movie, effort-free dinner and some tasty snacks'.

Today's plan was to go to the Myer Christmas windows - super early in the morning so there are no crowds. Then maybe a play centre. Then we had work to do. Presents for the dance teachers, food for the week's lunches, all the washing in the world to get done. I told the girls that this week they can have gluten (i.e. sandwiches in their lunches) because Jacinta won't be home to miss out or sneak it for herself.

So what actually happened was we all slept in, had the laziest morning we've seen in months, finally got dressed and out the door by about 1pm straight to the play centre. Played for a couple of hours then realised that we'd need to be home before 5pm to get Jacinta fed, showered and into bed for the early start. Shopped for teacher presents, cancelled grocery shopping (there'll be time while she's under, let's face it) and had a quick fish n chips at the playground. Then home, shower and bed.

Now it's an early night, early start, no breakfast (solidarity with the fasting sister) and straight in to the hospital. Can't quite believe it's happening to be honest, it's all been so fast.

This time we'll be trialling a tag team arrangement at the hospital. Really not sure how it'll all go, but I guess we'll see. No-one but me has ever spent a night in hospital with her, but she's not breastfed anymore and it really divides the family in half when we keep reinforcing the idea that Jacinta stays with Mum and the other two go with Dad.

I have my fingers crossed that the old 'pull a temp and crazy heart and resp rate when Mum leaves the room' will not apply - especially since she's been spending one day a week with Dad and her sisters while I've been studying for the past few months.

And although you'd think it would get easier, with so many familiar faces and familiar lingo and routines, it doesn't. I wonder if we're at the worst stage - with Jacinta fully able to hear and understand everything we say and indicating by yes, no and emphatic facial expressions how she feels, yet not able to have a conversation about it. Knowing, at the very least, how much this is all going to hurt, and none of us able to do anything about it other than offer cuddles for comfort, especially when the necessary morphine has her bouncing off the walls.

But, you do what you have to and hopefully this time it will be the last. They say there's no such thing as false hope, only false despair. (Well, I believe that is Raymond Veras' saying, actually.)
I'm running with it!

And there's even a rainbow...(no unicorn though)