Happy(?) Cancer-versary

I don’t enjoy summer.

There are the usual reasons–the heat, the humidity, the bugs…did I mention the heat and humidity? I’m not a fun in the sun kind of gal. I’m more into rain and gloom with a side of coffee and books.

More importantly, however, summer marks my son’s “cancer-versary.”

August 11, 2020.

“It will all be outpatient.”

“He’ll just come in for chemo and go right home.”

“Leukemia is one of the ‘better’ cancers to have.”

“There won’t be any significant changes to your life.”

“Most children go into remission after their first round of chemo.”

Three years we’ve been living this life and none of that has been true.

If there was a complication to be had. He has had it. Side effects, illness, infections, stays in the PICU, hospital stays that lasted weeks...hospital stays that lasted for months.

He lost the ability to stand and walk. He uses a wheelchair. We lived at Ronald McDonald house, separated from our other children, for almost a year while we searched for a place to live that was wheelchair accessible.

We sat by his side as he lost nearly 100 pounds because he couldn’t eat. I held his hand when he told me “I don’t think I can do this much longer.”

He had just turned 14 when he was diagnosed. He was supposed to be running around with his friends doing stupid boy shit, not living in a hospital fighting for his life.

He just turned 17. He’s in remission. Treatment will be over sometime around Thanksgiving. We are excited, thankful, and relieved.

But I regularly mourn his losses.

The months he spent not seeing his siblings and only seeing his parents one at time because cancer had the audacity to arrive during peak COVID.

The normal teenage stuff he hasn’t experienced.

The use of his legs.

The traditional high school experience lost due to the school’s issues with his wheelchair.

Most days, I don’t think about this stuff. Our lives have adjusted to a new normal. It works and we I don't think we've ever been happier. Great changes have happened in the last three years that I don’t think would have occurred if he hadn’t gotten sick. As a family, we are in such a better place, and I am truly thankful for that.

But, three years ago, I used social media not only to keep family and friends updated, but also to shake my fist at the universe for doing this to my baby.

And every summer, Facebook likes to remind me of all that and I get to mourn all over again.

I’ve been emotional for the last couple of days.

I’m emotional now.

Maybe it’s a good thing–these reminders. I get to see how far he’s come. I get to rejoice in the child–almost man–that he is now.

Maybe it’s a reminder to never take even the most ordinary moments with my family for granted.

To recognize that with all of our loss, we came out better and stronger.

In honor of that, I ask that you hug your loved ones a little tighter today.

Love them fiercely.

And find the joy in every moment spent with them.