Tag: hockey mom

Blown Away

Cooper is the subject of the new children’s book, Super Cooper Wins the Stanley Cup, written by Jack Gates. Proceeds from the book support Triumph Together, a non-profit program that works to connect collegiate and professional athletes with kids at Children’s Hospitals by getting them tickets to games, meet and greets with players, signed gear, videos of encouragement before surgeries, etc. Jack and his work have already created a lifetime of unforgettable memories for Cooper.

Jack, a San Diego resident, joined Cooper in Colorado to promote the book. But first, they spent time at Children’s Hospital South Campus, handing out the book and the Coloring and Activity Book to kids who share the same hallways Cooper so often visits.

Cooper’s post about handing out books at Children’s Hospital Colorado

Seeing our hospital family was a heartfelt homecoming. We were at the hospital for Cooper’s infusion 6 – 8 hours one day a week for 7 years. We did COVID with these ladies, they hugged me as I cried and prepared for Cooper’s surgeries. They welcomed us with open arms and every comfort possible when we came back after surgery. We celebrated and decorated for holidays and birthdays together in those sterile rooms. They found the best toys and activities for Cooper to pass the time. They helped Cooper with homework. We shared parenting trials and tribulations with them. They brought extra pillows and blankets for Velocity. They celebrated 5 years of treatment with Cooper in a day he called “The best day ever”. They fix his hearing. They cooked him his favorite chocolate chip pancakes. They welcome him at the front door.

It was in one of those sterile infusion rooms during COVID that Cooper first met Jack and some of the Colorado College hockey team on a ZOOM, playing a simple game. From that ZOOM, Jack easily recognized Cooper was a big hockey fan. Next came an autographed goalie stick from the Colorado College team. Then tickets to Colorado College hockey games, a VIP tour with the players, speaking to the team in the locker room after a win. Then Jack wowed Cooper with a pre-game ride on the Zamboni, and an autographed stick from Trevor Zegras when we were in Anaheim to watch the Colorado Avalanche play the Anaheim Ducks. Now Jack makes it a point to hang with Cooper when he’s in town – Dave and Busters, ice skating or Top Golf – any 11 year old’s dream.

On the way to Cooper’s book singing on Wednesday, I told him, “Cooper, this may be a weird comparison, but this is like a wedding. People from every part of your life are coming to support you. It is rare that this happens – that people from all parts your life – teachers from 6 years ago, family, friends, your dentist, neighbors, past nurses, all physically show up to celebrate you at a certain time and date.” It was definitely like my wedding – I stood and talked and hugged everyone for hours. We sold out of books (54)! Many people brought the books they bought on Amazon for Coop and Jack to sign. Velocity even had a paw print stamp for her own signature. Cooper and his quick wit had a good line for everyone. “To the mustard family” “Keep my mom busy” and even “I need food”.

A MASSIVE thank you for coming out to be with us at the book signing. Thank you for purchasing the book on Amazon, and leaving reviews. I’ve always believed that there is power and purpose in sharing Cooper’s journey and this book is the next step – funding Triumph Together to help other kids.

This summer is a blessing. No surgeries! Beach vacation! Cooper’s first time participating in the Dwarf Athletic Games where he got to play basketball, soccer, football and swim with kids his age and SIZE. He made new friends, and played his heart out for a week.

I finally have time to reflect, process and write this weekend while I’m in Massachusetts with Campbell for her hockey tournament. So now I need to go watch the other half of my heart live her best life.

Having all cylinders firing on good summer vibes has me Blown Away.

Today Was Rough

And I can’t sleep.

While at infusion today I envisioned a blog post about how things are great, and I’d casually mention I broke my ankle three weeks ago playing floor hockey with Cooper. And he’s doing great, so excited to be on a baseball team this summer. And Campbell is happy, completely enveloped in ice hockey and loving it. And my ankle is healing. The walking boot has slowed me down, but with all the playoff hockey on, it’s OK to put my foot up for a while.

But I didn’t blog because I was too busy playing NHL ‘18 on the hospital’s Xbox with Cooper. Or watching him play. It’s his new favorite thing to do while at infusion all day, since he doesn’t have school work (or arguing about doing school work) to take up the time.

Check out the bottom left – Cooper created player #18, Cooper Tippett

It’s been a long time since we’ve had a rough day at infusion. But due to the butterfly needle sitting a bit weird in his medi-port today, we had a couple awful moments. Pressure on his port from trying to hep-lock him made him go through the roof. The pressure of the infusion all day was just fine – but the pump wouldn’t work with the syringe of heparin, which meant we had to hold him down, peel off the dressing (sticker covering the needle – always the worst part of infusion day), reposition the needle, push the heparin into his IV and then remove the needle and be done. As it’s always been, he’s so anxious about the process that the mere act of touching the needle and discussing what we needed to do made him so upset and frantic, he was literally sick to his stomach. So when we tried to comfort and distract him as our skilled, gracious and caring nurses maneuvered the needle, I had flashbacks of last summer when Cooper had his first cast removed, before his second hip, knee and ankle surgery. Last summer Coop screamed at the top of his lungs as the doctor started the saw – he thought they were starting surgery and didn’t realize/listen to the fact that they were only removing the cast. Screaming. Tears. “I can’t do this anymore!” “I don’t want to do this!” All again today.

Coop recovered very well. He held gauze over his blood spot as it dried up. His tears disappeared as he said goodbye and that he’d see everyone next week and play more NHL ‘18. We gathered our things and walked out of the hospital into the fresh air. That’s where Coop lost it. Just big tears as we stood on the sidewalk, waiting for Velocity to pee.

At home, Coop continued to feel better. He said he’s sad. I hear you buddy. I’m glad you’re not mad, or scared. I’m sad too.

So I’m heartbroken and I can’t sleep. Everyday I’m thankful there is a treatment for Cooper’s rare disease. I’m sad that Cooper has to live with it. I’m sad that Campbell has to live in his shadow. Campbell’s hockey gives her a place out of that shadow. Cooper’s upcoming YMCA baseball season will give him a place further from the medical rare disease space. But it will always loom near him. Like the fact that he’ll be playing baseball with 1st and 2nd graders, because they are the size of my 4th grader. He’ll make new friends with the kids, and he’ll be excited. But that takes care of this year. Next year he’ll be the same size, and the next year, and the next year. His problems and his differences won’t get easier or less noticeable. Just like today – we think we’ve got this infusion thing under control and we get a curve ball. Another reminder that I’m not really in charge, I really have no control over anything. It’s time to remind myself to put this in God’s hands and move on. Do what I can, and move on. Perhaps sleep.