There was a revolving door of visitors at our home and no normal schedule, there were last minute changes of plans that led to disappointment. He learned when mommy needed to rest and have alone time. He didn’t get to sleep in his own bed for extended periods of time after my surgery and he had to be woken up in the middle of the night more than once to be tossed in a car to bring mommy to the Emergency Department.
He had to learn to keep his hands washed and that mommy couldn’t get kisses on the mouth or pick him up, he heard “I can’t do that with you right now” way more than any kid deserves, he witnessed his mom pulling over on the side of the road to throw up on the way home from school, he saw the line up of pill bottles on the bathroom sink; the abnormal became normal- and he was so brave through it all.
He proudly brought his stuffed monkey named “Chemo” to school for nap time, he learned about my ostomy and called it a “button”, he would quietly sneak in to check on me as I slept and whispered “sorry you don’t feel good mommy” (once even bringing me some chloraseptic spray he found just in case it would help). He loved to be a helper and feel included, giving me checkups and feeling my chest port through my skin. He loved to visit when I was in the hospital and even got to help me ring the bell at the end of treatment. He went on this roller coaster right alongside us, and I couldn’t be more proud of him.
I am no expert, and every kid is different, but I have learned a lot as a cancer patient and mom of small kids. I know that kids are so resilient, want to feel needed, and love fiercely. I’ve learned that they might not always know how to talk about their fears or what questions to ask, but if you listen closely- you can pick up on what they really need in the middle of all the chaos that being the kid of someone who is ill brings.
