Well, you guys know by now that it's a roller coaster for me, and some days, the big C hits harder than others.
This is one of those days.
Yesterday, I got a call from the clinic. Little Warrior's counts had come back and she needed a blood transfusion, which we did today. It's nothing horrible, it's just annoying -- getting up early, driving down there, wait, wait, sticking a needle in my baby, wait, wait, type and cross, wait, wait .... wait some more, finally, the infusion, which takes 3+ hours. So The Husband had to stay home to get the other three off to school, then since he would have had to turn around and come home to get them after school, he just stayed home.
WE are lucky. Because The Husband can do some work at home. (He's a consultant, so if he doesn't work, he doesn't get paid.) I am lucky. Because I have a partner. I don't know how single cancer parents do it. I really don't.
Last night, we went to The Boy's school open house. As I was walking past a hallway, I saw something out of the corner of my eye and did a double take. I went streaking back, The Husband behind me, wondering if I'd lost my mind.
There's a cancer dad whom I know through email and through this blog. I've seen pictures of his son.
There was a giant framed picture of his beautiful son up on the wall. He and my son went to the same school.
Kick in the stomach. Cancer world and regular world collide.
As I was in the infusion room today, I checked email. There was a notice that the website for one of our Wilms' friends had been updated.
I didn't check it. I knew what it would say. I had to wait til I was safe at home.
A beautiful teenager has left this world. Spunky, courageous, funny, and beautiful. She walked with her friends across the graduation stage last spring. (She didn't have the credits, but some schools are kind.) She went to Prom. In August, she watched her friends go off to college, knowing she never would.
Tonight is Stand Up 2 Cancer. We'll watch it, because I've heard that one of our Wilms' kids will be on. I won't be donating to them, because I haven't received confirmation that any will go to childhood cancer research. (And I have heard, not officially, that it won't, because they want to put it towards "high impact" projects.) Not that they're not a good organization, and not that adult cancer doesn't need the research. But I think I can be forgiven if I selfishly send a donation to Curesearch, instead.
So ... some days, the Big C fades into the background. It never disappears, but sometimes, it's just part of the wallpaper.
Some days, it's front, center, and leading our parade.
But we're lucky. Because we're still in the parade.
Lemonade and Haircuts