TheBakersfieldCalifornian.com

Belen Carrasco used to believe that living in denial was a bad thing.

No longer.

For nearly two years she has watched her 3-year-old daughter, Ylaria, endure countless radiation and chemo treatments. She and her husband, Regino Cazares, have cooed encouragement and provided comfort as their little girl was poked by needles and scanned by huge machines.

Now, two years into this "living nightmare," where each victory has been cruelly reversed, each period of hope crushed by relapse, a small dose of denial every once in a while just feels right.

"You don't give up hope. You never give up hope," Mrs. Carrasco says.

"But I think denial is a good thing now. Denial allows you to stay sane."

Elation dissolves

Their journey began in May 2007 as Mrs. Carrasco was planning a double birthday party for Ylaria, who was about to turn 2, and her big sister, Belen, who was turning 5.

Everything was coming together for the family that year. Mr. Cazares had started his first year of teaching at Pioneer School. His wife was well into her eighth year as an educator.

"It was a period of elation," she recalls. "We both came from difficult childhoods. We felt accomplished. We were making headway."

Then Ylaria developed a strange fever that would come and go with no apparent cause. A couple of checkups found nothing.

Then on May 18, 2007, four days after Ylaria's 2nd birthday, Bakersfield pediatrician Elsa Lavadia detected a large mass in the girl's abdomen.

Mother and daughter were directed to the emergency room, where hours later, Mrs. Carrasco was told she must accompany her daughter in an ambulance to a hospital in Los Angeles.

"That's when the gravity of it hit me," Carrasco remembers. "It felt like something stabbing me. I couldn't catch my breath."

Within an hour of reaching Cedars-Sinai, Ylaria's hands and feet were bruised from the many attempts to draw blood. Ironically, the blood work was never completed as the worried parents were advised that an oncologist wouldn't be available and a transfer to UCLA Medical Center was called for.

Neuroblastoma

After more frustrating missteps -- including a misdiagnosis, the couple say, and undue pressure to end their request for a second opinion -- Ylaria was diagnosed with stage IV neuroblastoma, an aggressive childhood cancer of the central nervous system.

Though she may not know it, Ylaria has been fighting for her life ever since.

Family friend Anne Bouldoukian says she's constantly amazed by Ylaria's ability to smile and be happy throughout her ordeal.

But somewhere beneath the surface, Ylaria seems like someone who has lived well beyond her actual age.

"She's like an old soul," Bouldoukian says. "You can see it in her eyes."

Sloan-Kettering

Early on, it was decided that Gino would be the one take a leave from work to accompany Ylaria on her countless trips to hospitals for treatment. As a first-year teacher, his salary was lower, so it made sense.

Eventually, they found Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center in New York City -- and realized immediately that Ylaria was receiving the best care available there.

But often the family was split in two. For a few months last year, the prognosis was good and life took on a semblance of normalcy, Mr. Cazares says.

Ylaria had the chance to go to a preschool and even got a taste of ballet lessons.

"We only missed one week of each month to go back to New York," Cazares says. "So my wife and I decided both of us could go back to work."

'Our future is unknown'

Unfortunately, the normalcy they experienced would not last. By January of this year, a new scan was causing concern, and by March, Ylaria was in relapse.

The prognosis is "poor," the parents acknowledge.

"Our future is unknown," says Cazares.

This week, the entire family is in New York, monitoring Ylaria's white cell count and other numbers. The doctors have promised she can go to Disneyworld this weekend if her numbers look good.

The trip is a gift from the Make-A-Wish Foundation.

The parents and their girls just want some simplicity, they say, a few days together to be a family, to soak up a little elation and maybe some patented Disney fun.

They're bringing along a touch of denial for good measure.