Its not a personal insult but more of an observation I have made about myself because of the the past 4 1/2 years.
I used to be soft as a kitten.
I couldn't watch TV shows without crying.
I had every sad ass twit as my personal friend.
I wanted to heal the world and make everyone feel better about themselves and their lives.
Undeniably - I've changed.
I first noticed this when I started getting 'treatment envy' over other children.
Some children literally sail through cancer treatment.
From the moment they are diagnosed its all plain sailing - no reactions, barely any side effects, every treatment just works perfectly.
I while ago I realised I had started to really resent those lucky families.
Not for one moment would I ever wish any child ill (well, iller than cancer !!! Please !!!)
but I was seriously jealous of the ease of their treatment.
Yes, I said it .....Jealous.
I stopped being so friendly during clinic appointments.
I really couldn't stand to hear about how little Oscar was doing so well and hadn't vomited once through his chemotherapy and was back at school. Especially when my son had reacted to every medicine known to man, he was rewriting the book on side effects and was only classed as an experiment in the first place because of his diagnoses.
"Blah,blah, blah" was what I heard from these families.
It was the cancer equivalent to listening to someone who's married to Brad Pitt and having to endure details of their wonderful bedroom exploits.
Whatever !!... please just sod off.
I became increasingly drawn to sad cases - families just like us.
No prognoses? small chance of survival? doctors never seen this before? etc etc
Mum, would you like to go for a coffee? Let's be friends.
The result is:
I really don't have many friends, but what I do have, are pure gold.
I have met some simply amazing families with warriors of children and teenagers.
I have also read about some of these fallen warriors in the monthly newsletter.
Obituaries are on the back page.
Sometimes the length of this page is overwhelming - Its only one hospital.
I scour it every time, for names I know but I also say a pray for each child and their family.
I hate that newsletter - I long for the day that its no longer needed.
I attended one special teenagers funeral.
It was the saddest, most heart breaking time of my life.
We'd met this teenager when Brett was diagnosed the first time in 2008.
This family taught us 'the ropes' in hospital even though they were only a month ahead of us.
A month is huge in cancer terms.
We kept in touch, followed this boys journeys, celebrated successes and worried for failures.
Brett had just got over PCP pneumonia (which is deadly in cancer terms).
He had beat it and had been home from hospital for one day only when we got the 'terminal' news from our special family.
When I heard this teenager was dying, I cried for a whole day solid.
It wasn't me being soft, it was me being totally devastated.
This teenage had fought for 2 1/2 years and had endured such atrocities and fought and fought and fought and had never for one moment ever given up.
But something or someone had other plans.
He'd died after months of cancer eating him up.I have never got over his death and I don't think I ever will.
The trouble is there's no typical death reassurance with child cancer:
"Well he had a good innings" - no he didn't
"He lived life his life the way he wanted" - no he hadn't
"He brought this on himself with his lifestyle " - no he didn't
You're only left with Why? and what's it all about?
The most honest thing to me, was at his funeral, the vicar started the service by emotionally saying:
'Please don't ask me to justify a child dying of cancer because I cant.
Its just simply terrible.
I only know what I believe and that's that God knows things we don't know and we wont understand fully until we are in the kingdom of Heaven ourselves'
I found this start to his sermon beautifully pure.
Pure in faith yet lacking religious smugness.
Too the present day:
We have a wonderful fantastic friend (and family) who is really close to the end of his Leukaemia Treatment.
He's completed 3 1/2 years of hell and treatment/torture which ends in March 2013.
Today, he is in hospital having transfusions of blood and platelets and the hospital have literally spent all day trying to access a vein that would work - last time I heard from his mum they were working on his feet for vein access.
This bab is totally so amazing.
Nearly there sweetheart.You are so brave.
Eat more Pringle's!
And Also a beautiful lovely gorgeous girl (and Family) we know,
had a huge 8 hour operation yesterday to remove a massive tumour for the third time in three years.
She's also had tons of chemotherapy and all its torture.
She's done so well and also endured so much and is such a completely beautiful lovely individual.
You are a brilliant, sparkly, special little lady - You can do it, keep going, you are a constant inspiration.
If breaths and dreams only had power
There wouldn't be a need for any treatment.
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