Childhood Cancer Awareness

BE the hope

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The world is heavy right now and it seems every day brings a new crisis. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been feeling overwhelmed.

So, when I had a recent opportunity to ๐“ซ๐“ฎ the hopeful one, I took it. And you should, too.

Last week, we were at the long-term follow up clinic. After his appointments (with 5 specialists) we made an extra stop to the oncology floor. Saw two of our favorite nurses- Nurse Pam (inpatient, days) & Nurse McDoodle (outpatient clinic). Her name isn’t Mcdoodle, that’s just what our 3 yr old called her.

They were โ€‹๐Ÿ‡งโ€‹โ€‹๐Ÿ‡ชโ€‹โ€‹๐Ÿ‡ฆโ€‹โ€‹๐Ÿ‡ฒโ€‹โ€‹๐Ÿ‡ฎโ€‹โ€‹๐Ÿ‡ณโ€‹โ€‹๐Ÿ‡ฌโ€‹ while looking at him & marveled at his 17 years of survivorship. Pam hugged me hard & she cried just a bit.

It would have been easier to just leave. We would have been home an hour earlier, back to the realities of school and work.

But something told me to go to the 7th floor & see if they were there. I’m so glad we did. In their line of work, they see a lot of sick kids & distraught parents. It’s important that they see kids who make it; kids who made it in part ๐“ซ๐“ฎ๐“ฌ๐“ช๐“พ๐“ผ๐“ฎ of them.

I took pictures and sent them. Pam wrote: “Thank you so much for these! You have no idea how good visits like these are for my soul ๐Ÿ’•โค๏ธ”

Who in your life could use some hope right now?

How can you challenge yourself to be that person for them?

* Forward the job posting.
* Make an introduction.
* Write a LinkedIn recommendation.
* Volunteer.
* Bring someone a meal or flowers.
* Write a thank you note.

Since our visit, I’ve felt better than I have in months. I’m going to focus on keeping this momentum going. Want to join me?

You’ve got this! I’m rooting for you!



Mantra #4: The Only Way Out is Through

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Every time I look at social media (why do I keep doing that?) or read the news, there’s a new crisis.

It’s exhausting. And yet, it feels familiar.

We’ve have been here before (job loss, Covid, illness, injuries, etc.).

There is some comfort in that.

You have faced hard things before and you can do it again.

I originally wrote this post on March 20, 2020, as the pandemic was just beginning.

It applies to our current time as well. Replace Covid with 2025 and it works.

So, to help us through, here is Mantra #4: ๐™๐™๐™š ๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™ก๐™ฎ ๐™ฌ๐™–๐™ฎ ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ฉ ๐™ž๐™จ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ง๐™ค๐™ช๐™œ๐™.

The coronavirus changed our world in an instant. People are hurting. They’re scared for their safety and their livelihoods. They’re afraid for elderly parents and small children. These are not small things and they should not be diminished. Do not diminish others’ fears. Or your own.

Fear is pain. Unfortunately, we live in a pain-avoidant culture. Many people are afraid of pain- their own, their children’s, the world’s. They ignore it, numb it, try to out-drink or our out-run it.

Fear is good, actually.

Fear reminds us that we’re alive. That there’s something left to lose and something still to live for.

Fear is normal. Avoiding it is not.

It really stinks that this virus isn’t the hardest the thing that I’ve ever done. I’m not happy about that. I’m pissed, actually. Yet, I’m oddly calm, too. There is, for us, a sense of: “yes, we’ve been here before. We got through that, we will get through this.”

We were completely quarantined for months and practiced social distancing for over a year. And yet, even then, there were others forced to do even more work than us. Bone marrow transplant patients are often hospitalized for years. Some of my friends fought for years and still lost their children.

Shepherding my son through cancer treatment was hard. Getting “over it” was harder. This is not my default setting. I’m an east-coaster raised on grades, achievements, and busy. If you weren’t productive, you weren’t worth much.

I don’t “get over” stuff. I am a hanger-on-er. I love to revisit old wounds and dissect how I’ve been wronged. I tried that for years. It only brought more pain and more fear.

After years of denial, I realized that: The only way out is through.

I had to work through my fear, anger, grief, disappointment, rage, frustration. It was brutal. I hated it. I resented most of it.

And I am grateful for it.

The choice is the point. Especially now when it feels as if we have no choice. It’s normal to feel helpless and hopeless. Just don’t stay there.

Name your fears. Write them in a journal. Shout them into the wind. The more we name things, the less power they have to control us.

Go cry in your closet or bathroom. Throw stuff or punch a pillow. Then, wash your face, brush your teeth, and go for a walk.

The more we name our hope, the more inspired we are to act, too

You got this and I’m rooting for you.

Tomorrow

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Tomorrow is December 12th. Diagnosis Day. Dx day. D day. THE day.

Usually this time of year, I am anxious. Tight. Angry. Yet, for the first time in eight years, I feel….”normal.” I have prayed for this day. Waited for this day to finally come. It did and I barely noticed it. It snuck up on me. People always say that don’t they? “Enjoy this time, it goes so fast” or “time heals all wounds” blah blah blah.

The class I teach is on Monday nights. In August I wrote down all 15 weeks, 15 Mondays, and posted them on our kitchen bulletin board. December 12th is a Monday. It’s been staring at me, in my own handwriting, since August.

And I’m fine. We’re all fine. And I finally mean it. I’m not just saying that to get people to stop asking me about it.

I bumped into D day last week. I was standing in the hallway outside my classroom waiting for the class before us to finish up, writing a note to remind my students about their final paper, due December 12th. I wrote out December 12th, looked at it and remembered. Not that I ever really forgot, it’s more like I was reminded. This year the waiting has been less..heavy. I wrote out 12/12 and had to immediately text Sean: “OMG! December 12th is next week. Can you believe it?” I was so excited that I had forgotten!

It happened again today. We were grocery shopping and in the orange juice section the boys started counting out how many more days until school break, until Santa comes, until NJ vacation. They were off because today is December 11th, not the 10th. I said out loud, “Today is December 11th. Huh.” Sean heard me, caught my eye, and said, “I know what you mean.”

I am not sure why this year is different. I’ve been keeping a gratitude journal since October 10th. Every day I write three or four things that made me happy, or that I’m grateful for. I’ve been praying more. I’ve been more open in asking others to pray for me. I went back to yoga. I am learning to breathe more fully.

Who knows if any of these things have contributed to my healing. Maybe none. Maybe all. Regardless, I’m going to keep doing them. I’m also going to stop looking for the perfect combination or magic formula. That’s where I get into trouble- I dissect every little thing, event, conversation. I weigh and measure it. I spin my wheels trying to make things work, instead of just letting them work.

We go to church every Sunday; it’s one of the things that I’ve always done and will keep doing. I confess (ha!) though that sometimes it doesn’t always do it for me. Sometimes church is one of the things that I try to make work. The choir picks random hymns that are too high for me to sing, there’s a screaming kid behind me, or the readings are for someone else.

Not today. Today, church worked. It was as if God was speaking directly to me. It was just me and Herย today and it worked. Words and phrases lept out at me.

“Sorrow and mourning will flee….meet the Lord with gladness and joy” (Isaiah).

“Be patient. Make your hearts firm” (James).

Today is the third Sunday of Advent, Gaudete Sunday. Gaudete means “Rejoice” and today reminds us to take a step back and recall our joy. Gaudete is a light-hearted break in the midst of the pregnant waiting of Advent. Our priest’s homily challenged and encouraged me to be hopeful. “Hope is a desire for something good that is difficult to attain.” Whoa. Slow down there, Father. You’re speaking right to me and it’s making me kinda squirmy.

For years I have been desiring healing, to feel…free, loose. That is something good that sure as hell has been difficult to attain. Sometimes I felt distant from God. That S/He wasn’t hearing my prayers. Maybe I wasn’t praying hard enough, or right enough or even just, enough. Why was God taking so damn long?

Of course today’s readings were about hope and rejoicing. And of course, today was Gaudete Sunday, the day before D-day. Because that is how God works. That is God’s timing. I’m learning to trust that God is always with me. S/He has beenย working on my heart, helping me to be hopeful. It just took me a little longer to catch on. It took me so damn long!

Today I rejoice. I will continue to train myself to choose hope. Because I get a tomorrow. Luke gets a tomorrow. Even if tomorrow is D-day. Even if tomorrow is a hard day. I still get it. It’s mine to use or waste. It’s mine to embrace or push against. I rejoice! I choose hope!