Dear Cancer Patient,

Dear Cancer Patient,

     Last Wednesday evening we spoke briefly while you were getting your IV for your upcoming CT scan. You were joking with the nurse about how you really didn't want to be doing "this" and I got the impression that you are early in your battle. I was sitting in a chair across the room from my son, Trace, where he had already gotten his IV and was also waiting for his CT scan. I know you were just wanting to talk and I am glad we got to talk, brief as it was.

     It appeared to me that you were having a bad day, a "why me" kind of day...and I am so sorry. We all have them from time to time...and as a cancer patient, I do believe it's your right to have those days. It's OK to have a "I hate all this!" kind of day, an "F-U" kind of day.

    You said, "this sucks and this is not how I planned on spending my day."

    I said I was sorry and that "yes, it does suck...a lot."

    You then asked if I had cancer. I said no and pointed to Trace sitting across the room and said "but my son did."

   You ask "how old?" I say, "12."

   You were speechless.

   Then you said, "It's not fair."

   To which I replied, "No, it is not."

    I did NOT expect the expression of regret and sadness on your face as you said, "well, I think I will keep my mouth shut now." I then told you how well Trace was doing and that he was beating it and it brought a smile to your face. I hope that Trace's spirit and fight rekindled your light to fight with everything you have. You looked amazingly like the comedian Kevin Nealon and that brought a smile to my face.

     I hoped and prayed that you had some family there with you for support however, when I saw you walking out later in the day outside MDA, you were alone. Carrying the large tote bag that we all carry with medical records and getting into your car alone...

....continuing your fight, your battle, your journey against cancer.

     I wish you luck.

Sincerely, woman in CT holding room at MD Anderson with her 12 yr old son.

Reflection

1 year

12 months

52 weeks

365 days

8760 hours

525600 minutes

31536000 seconds

And I have felt every single one of them. You hear those words, those awful words, those words that have the power to shake you to the very core of your being, those words that take every single bit of control you thought you had away. You know that you will never ever be the same. 

"Your child has cancer."

In the immediate span of time after those words are uttered, you hear nothing, yet everything. 

You feel nothing, yet every single emotion. 

You don't know what to do, yet you want to do everything, anything....ANYTHING.

You cry,

you scream, 

you question,

you bargain, 

you beg, 

you hope, 

you pray.

Cancer!!

In a child!!

MY SON??

????

August 5, 2010

a day I will never forget

a day in a week that also has the anniversary of our daughter's birth/death

a day in a week that also has my birthday

a day in a week that also has Kelsi's birthday

a day in a week that also has my brother's birthday

A week that I would just like to skip from now on.

The rollercoaster of emotions is just too much sometimes.

rising up

falling down

loop around

curve this a way

curve that a way

going upside down

swirve around

and do it all again.

So, here we are a year later. Still riding that rollercoaster.

Many many tears later.

Many many sleepless nights later.

Many many many questions later.

Cancer sucks

A lot

It is not easy in any way.

We are very very very lucky. Trace's cancer was cured with surgery and he has remained cancer free since October 15, 2010.

But, since his tumor was cut into and had incomplete margins in pathology, that means reoccurence is a possibility...at any time. AT ANY TIME!! One little cell, just one, one itsy-bitsy, microscopically tiny little cell could have escaped and can decide to set up shop somewhere else in his body. If is does, we face moving to Houston for radiation at the Proton Therapy Center.

Every 3 months is scan time and appointment time.

He gets labs to check kidney function before the IV contrast.

He gets a chest x-ray and exposed to radiation to check for reoccurrence in his lungs.

He gets an IV.

He gets IV contrast injected in his veins with associated side effects.

He gets a head and neck CT scan and exposed to more radiation to check for reoccurrence in his neck or head. 

He gets approximately 20 months worth of accumulated natural occurring radiation in one 10 minute scan to his head...increasing his risk of another cancer later in life. ANOTHER CANCER!

He gets anxiety, stress and worry. At 12yrs old.

12 yrs old.

He's just a child.

A child diagnosed with cancer.

Cancer.

Yes, cancer.

46 children are diagnosed every day with it.

7 children die every day from it.

And it sucks big time.