That's one of those things that experts start telling you as soon as the biopsy stick turns pink*.
And it's true. And sometimes you won't know how much. Until your 7 year old, who was 3 at the initial diagnosis and 5 at the relapse, comes home from school and in her backpack amongst her other assignments, is her penny assignment.
In the penny assignment, they tape a penny with the right year on it next to every year they've been alive and write something significant about that year.
And your 7 year old has:
2002: I was born.
2003: I turned one year old and learned to crawl.
2004: I learned to crawl out of my crib.
2005: My little sister had cancer for the first time.
2006: I was home schooled.
2007: I went to school for the first time.
2008: "LW" had cancer again.
2009: I went to Disneyworld.
And it's so ordinary. So mundane. Nothing traumatic. A year in the life.
And you look around for something to kick.
*that's a joke. There is no biopsy stick. Unless you count the surgeon's scalpel.