Part 3… My Summer Vacation
I am not sure of what I can do, how I should be, or if I can in some way make this better. I am filled with anxiety and questions. It’s going to be a long summer.
They arrive.
Surprise. He doesn’t look sick, maybe a little thinner but certainly not like someone who is dying of cancer. The only telltale sign is that he is bald, not a bad look for Yul Brenner nor for Michael.
Once they are settled, I ask about the latest information?
“We have a new prognosis, having completed one round of chemo, it knocked the cancer but destroyed his immune system. His immune system is coming back but so are the cancer blasts. They now tell us it will be two to six months, with a possibility of a year at the outside.”
I still have questions. “But he looks so healthy?”
“What you see, mom, is a normal person dying of cancer; not a person on chemo dying of cancer. Without the chemo, the cancer is unseen. He just gets tired faster and takes a bit longer to recuperate. The gaunt look of cancer is reserved for those on chemo.”
This makes sense but is a surprise to me. I expected to see the ravages of the disease. Michael looks pretty good, a big man, a handsome man, and from what I can see, a normal man. It is hard to believe he is dying. It is hard to wrap my mind around the reality of the diagnosis.
There are bumps in the road as we merge lives, schedules, ideologies. We have children in the house again and they don’t go home at night. We have a dog in the house. I try not to fuss about having things touched, moved, used. I chastise myself for becoming an old woman who worries about minutia and things, rather than living in the moment and seeing the big picture, of enjoying this time – the time that my daughter has entrusted into my care. It is hard for me to focus on the needs of my daughter and her family. I project that this is going to end in tears. I pray for an understanding heart and patience. I pray to give, to provide, to order my emotions. I experience failure in that I don’t measure up to the person I think I should be.
I read a checklist of Cognitive Distortions and see myself, “#5: Jumping to conclusions: (B) Fortune-telling – you arbitrarily predict that things will turn out badly.”
Lions, and tigers, and bears. Oh, my!
don’t we all do the same thing? Your story hits home. Thanks for opening your heart, Jan.
Thank you Jan.
You so write from your heart and share your true feelings, I enjoy reading your view of last summer! Thank you for sharing and I can’t wait for part 4!