That is how I've been dealing with cancer lately. It has not been an easy month for me or a lot of other people as far as cancer goes. Several friends have been diagnosed, others have passed. It has not been an easy Spring.
As a mom, cancer has been difficult, not only for the obvious reasons of having stage 4 cancer, but for less obvious reasons as well. I find it is difficult to balance wanting to spend every moment with Kat filled with joy and being a responsible mommy. I also find it difficult to turn off my emotions about cancer sometimes, and Kat often takes a rant she doesn't fully deserve. This happened this week when a friend passed after a battle with pancreatic cancer. As is the case with most cancers, her decline was rapid, and her death took me by surprise when it happened. Not that it was going to happen, which was inevitable, but that it did so soon. That day I found it difficult to keep my emotions in check, and Kat was at the unfortunate end of my wrath that evening. To be fair, she would've been in trouble regardless, but I went off on her a bit more than I should have. I know I should forgive myself these occasional missteps, but it's hard when you know you're wrong and you can't stop yourself. I also have noticed Kat has been much more clingy with me lately than she used to be, and it intensifies when I'm going through a treatment week. When I was diagnosed, she was 3, and she didn't have a huge reaction to anything. Now she's nearly 6 and it's obvious it's affecting her. One night, she asked me why I have to take medicine that makes my hair fall out and I decided, if she was willing to listen, that I would tell her the truth (as much as a nearly 6 year old can handle). I told her that Mommy has cancer and that cancer is a very serious disease for which I will always need to take medicine. Up until then, she just knew Mommy had a "lump" that required medicine, but I never put into words what caused that "lump." After I got done telling her, she cried. She couldn't tell me why exactly she was crying - I asked her if it was because I had cancer, she said no; because I lost my hair, she said no - but just that she needed to cry. I told her I understood the need to cry, even when you're not really sure why you're crying. I do it often. It's cathartic. I told her this and subsequently held her until she fell asleep in my bed. I let her sleep in my bed often now. In no way do I think this will affect her behavior, so it's an indulgence on both our parts that is perfectly acceptable. When Sean's ready for bed, he takes her into her room (unless she's beating the crap out of me, as little ones tend to do, and then she gets the boot sooner). When it comes to acting spoiled, being disrespectful, and not listening, however, Kat gets full blown Mommy discipline. Kat tends to do those things a lot (as I suspect most little ones tend to do), so she hears a lot of nos and warnings and "go to your room"s. As a mom, this is my job. As a mom with cancer, this is very difficult. It's a constant internal battle, but I will not have my child raised as a spoiled little brat, so it's a battle I will wage.
As a friend, I have lost 2 friends in the past month, and 4 friends since my own fight started. I have learned of 4 friends diagnosed. I have learned of one having hard time now after years of beating the crap out of cancer. All moms. I'm not saying Dad's aren't affected - of course they are. It just seems to be the moms who are being hit lately. At least in my world. And it's hard to be a mom with cancer. Moms want to do it all, and that's hard when you're not fully yourself. I try to be a source of information for anyone who is interested. I will gladly share my own experiences, as I have here, and what I've learned along the way. I see no reason to keep it all to myself. It's not like it's a prize. What is difficult for me is when my own diagnosis gets lost in all of it. It's a bit selfish of me to say that, I suppose, but it's true. Cancer deaths and diagnoses hit me extra hard because I'm fighting the battle myself. Being a resource for others is easy and I gladly do it. Being someone to lean on sometimes gets hard. I will say, however, that sometimes depends on who is doing the leaning. It's hard not to feel some sort of jealously for those who have a chance at a cure. Jealousy and joy. I don't want anyone at all to suffer through this. I don't want to lose another friend, another mom, to this awful disease. But I don't want to lose myself either, and so jealousy of that chance, that hope, is often hard to suppress. In those times, I search for articles of hope and inspiration, like the melanoma study results at Lehigh Valley Hospital this month. Hope for a cure, for a better treatment.
In the meantime, I put my happy goggles on and get on with things, because really, what's the alternative?
xo,
Lisa
