Almost as Wild and Free
As a parent of a child with cancer I’m sure we can all agree we have a date forever etched into our mind, heart and soul. A date that repeats itself year after year. The exact date you hear that your child has cancer. I’m sure as parents we all have different descriptions of “that day” and I like to think of ours as the day I was reborn. As I look back at our journey it truly is hard to describe this ordeal of pediatric cancer but the thoughts that race through my head even to this day our in the millions. Our journey began on October 12, 2012 when we were told our son had an inoperable malignant brain tumor. I can tell you what I was doing, what I was wearing. I can tell you that my son asked me if he was going to die. He asked me why bad things happen to good people and I vividly remember the doctor telling me your son will not have a great outcome but he will have a good outcome. I’ve come to realize this cancer journey caused me to shut down, to regress almost back to an infant stage if you will. Here I was a mom of a wonderful 16 year old boy and somehow I had turned into a newborn infant. A newborn with a touch of colic. Here I was sobbing and no one could console me. I didn’t even know what I wanted at that moment. Did I wish this never happen? Did I wish I could be the one with cancer and not my child? Did I wish there was a cure for cancer? I didn’t know a thing. Nothing at that point could e!ven begin to soothe me.
My son’s treatment started pretty quickly with the usual doses of chemo. I guess you could say I learned to crawl at that stage of my son’s treatment. I still didn’t know what I wanted and I certainly didn’t know where I was going. It was a slow process navigating the cancer world but soon words like ANC, Hgb, and platelets became our daily vocabulary and weekly appointments with the oncologist became routine. I slowly watched as my son’s color left his body and was replaced with the dreaded paleness of chemo. We watched as his hair began to fall out and fatigue began to set in. Through this all he just wanted to be normal. He wanted to go to school like his friends and he soon began to realize that having the opportunity to attend school was certainly a privlegde. I on the other hand still had not mastered crawling. I was becoming overwhelmed with guilt. How could I have let this to happen to my son? The signs and symptoms of my son’s golf ball size tumor were there before his diagnosis. How could I have n!ot known something was wrong?
I finally learned to stand on my own two feet just in time for my son to start radiation. Although I could stand I was at a complete standstill. Nothing could of ever prepared me to see my son’s head bolted to a table. I sat there just staring wondering how he felt, thinking I couldn’t even do that myself. Reality set in. How does he do it? You see that’s it, he didn’t have a choice. This was his life if he wanted to live it. You hear that a lot. People would comment throughout his treatment. Your son is so brave. He is so tough. Really?? What other option does he have? I know people generally mean well but even these little “words of encouragement” were enough t!o set me off.
My son completed his treatment and was given a “clean bill of health”. I say that in quotations because I wonder how healthy you can actually be after poison has been pumped through your body and radiation penetrates your brain? It’s actually a scary time for parents, as we become accustom to the routine appointments where we rely on nurses and doctors when we second guess ourselves. Then BOOM! You don’t see them on a weekly basis and your left to your own devices. It’s a little overwhelming to think that it’s back to life as we know it. Although these feelings and thoughts run through my body, I’m proud to say I’ve learned to walk again. I’ve slowly learned to pull myself together. I once let my mind wander into the “what ifs” but I quickly remind myself.......what if I get hit by a bus tomorrow? I can’t and will not live in the “what ifs”. The day my son was diagnosed I prayed to God. I didn’t pray for him to be perfect. I didn’t pray for him not to have any side effects from cancer treatment. I prayed for him to live, to simply be here. So when I’m consumed with the fact that my son has memory issues because of his treatment....guess what? He’s here. That’s all I prayed for and that’s what I got.
My son is now one year in remission and this mama is running freely! Almost as wild and free as Phoebe on the episode of Friends when she runs through the park. I’m awkward. I don’t fit into my old life anymore. The things that I thought were important like a clean house or hurrying home to see an episode of my favorite show aren’t so important anymore. What is important is having my three children on this earth with me that call me mom. There were many days I didn’t know if I would always be a mom to three kids but as I sit here writing I realize no matter what happens, to any of us, I will always be a mom to three beautiful children and there is no greater gift than that.
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Jenna Nelson Meister has never written a blog (until today!) and is a mom of 3 kids from Indiana. She is passionate about raising awareness for pediatric cancer.
