I don't know what makes a day one of those days, but today was a humdinger of a day. Last night I was so tired...you know, that tired to the bone, desperate for sleep kind of tired that makes you grumpy and a little high-strung. Who am I kidding? I've felt like that for months....it's part of the journey I'm on with my family and dear old cancer!
Anyway, I digress. So last night, tired beyond reason, I sat in the kitchen comforting my amazingly strong son who had just HAD ENOUGH: Sam is sick and tired of the treatment, fed up with not being 'normal'. He says he is not a 'normal kid'. He says he wants to be able to play and chase his friends at recess. He says he wishes he had never had cancer, as it is too much now.
I validated everything, no sugar-coating, just plain agreeing with him. It sucks, stinks, feels like crap, blah, blah, blah. (My words, not his...."Cancer is stupid" is Sam's release....my real release words would make this blog R rated! We are getting closer to the end of treatment, but tell a kid he has at least five more months to go and it doesn't register the same way it does to all our well-wishers. It still seems like forever, and so much of his life has revolved around not being normal (his words).
Sam also showed how much things are getting to him when Leslie, his psychologist, had the session with him in the clinic. Playing doctor often helps in a therapeutic way. Sam has a monkey he looks after and often works on 'teaching' the monkey how to cope with the treatments he gets from Sam. This visit was remarkably different: instead of helping the monkey feel better, Sam stuck the needle in the monkey's eyes, nose, ears...basically anywhere it would hurt, and with no plan to calm the monkey before treatment.
So, back to today: I drove to school with the sunglasses hiding my tears, blamed allergies as kind colleagues checked in with me, and sucked it up and gave it my all once the students were in the classroom. Only those closest to me knew what was going on.
This is a crying day....I have them....I will continue to have them spring up and surprise me for many years to come, I'm sure. I hope Sammy does not continue to have them once treatment is over, and I won't let him know if I do.
Why share this? 'Cos I'm a sap! No, it's because the people reading this who are in my shoes will relate and understand, they might feel better about their own crying days, they might give themselves a break and let it go...it happens. I still feel like crying, the day is not yet over. Tomorrow, however, is another day.
