TheBakersfieldCalifornian.com

Five-year-old Bakersfield resident Ylaria Cazares  was diagnosed with stage IV neuroblastoma, an  aggressive childhood cancer, at the age of 2. After months  of painful treatment, Ylaria's scans were shown to be clear in May 2008.  Unfortunately, the family's joy was short-lived. Ylaria relapsed in  March 2009.

In April 2010, a doctor told Ylaria's parents that their daughter  may have as few as eight weeks to live. Her scan showed large black cancerous  spots on the bones in her legs,  her ankles,  her wrist and her  shoulder. Her parents had to make a decision.

After seeking advice from other parents and searching  their own hearts, the family decided to go ahead with  more treatments in hopes that a miracle might occur. But in recent weeks, the tumors have spread. In her blog, Ylaria's mom, Belen Carrasco, describes Ylaria’s swelling abdomen, the mass of tumors in her legs, and the agonizing pain her daughter is experiencing.

Belen's latest entry follows. It was posted at 3:02 p.m. on Jan. 3:

Docs are all in agreement that its time to focus all of our energy on keeping her as comfortable as possible.

I never thought i would say this, but for once, i think i'm in agreement with them.  looking at her body, and seeing how terribly painful it is for her to even try to move a centimeter, i can't help but think how inhumane it would be to try to get her into a car, or a plane, or even onto a stretcher. 

I kindly requested that they withhold any responses from the institutions to whom we sent scan results.  i already know what they would tell us, and i really don't want to hear it at this point.  it would just hurt too much.

The swelling is to the point where parts of her body look like someone is trying to force a balloon to fold in half.  its so painful for her.  no matter how many pillows we use to try to buffer around her, she still goes in and out of moaning pain and sleep.  the doctors have told us that the swelling is so bad, its most likely to rupture at which point they would start wound care.  they have also told us they fear our home hospice agency, as good as they may be,  may not have the type of resources available to them to maintain this process in the most peaceful way.  this brings us to our new worry - we have always envisioned a peaceful passing at home.  everyone we've talked to has told us that we will much rather appreciate her home than in a hospital.  and its scary to think that she would go from a hospital to a mortuary without ever coming to her home again?  i almost can't bear the thought of it.  but from everything we see and hear, its looking more and more like its not going to be possible for us to bring her home. the only thing that comforts me is that the doctors and pain teams sound so confident that it is going to be a peaceful process.  i guess in the end, that is what is important.  her peace and comfort.

Maybe i'm getting too caught up in this worry.  i keep hearing the voices in my head.  i keep thinking of our home as it is right now, unopened presents for her that we couldn't get to, christmas decorations, toys she's been waiting to play with.  and of course the fact that she wakes up every morning asking, "how many days until we go home?"

I am awaiting a call back from our hospice agency to see what their opinion is of things.  i will keep you posted.

Thank you for your continued prayers.  thank you all of you who drove, are driving, or are flying down to spend a beautiful moment with her.  these past few days have been very special with all of the precious moments she is sharing with her visitors.  unfortunately, if we haven't already made an arrangement with you over the next couple of days, we'd like to request that things slow down a bit.  after the next few visits we'll be limiting visits to specific people.  thank you for your respectful understanding.