Coming up for air

Cancerversaries vs. sick kids

The last few weeks have felt like a blurry mess. I’ve been so out of the processing habit that I’ve almost forgotten how to put any of the overwhelm into words. My husband and I went away for a few days for my birthday. An impromptu trip prompted by the need to be out of my house and in a different headspace as my 37th birthday approached.

Birthdays, at least for me, are a huge relief and simultaneously, a harsh reminder of how short and fragile life is. We get back home the night before my birthday, on February 4th, and no less than 24 hours later, on my birthday itself, we’re in the hospital with my not-yet-two-year-old, who ends up diagnosed with both bronchulitis and pneumonia.

Over the loudspeaker in the ER, I hear the name of the radiologist who diagnosed my breast cancer not-yet-two-years-ago. Over and over again I hear them paging her, she happens to be the radiologist on call. I’m both triggered and completely in mom mode. I feel like I’m not allowed to stress because stress is bad for cancer, so on top of the stress related to my daughter, I’m now stressed about my stress. And then realize I only care about my daughter getting better. I can’t deal with my own trauma right now. And then the cycle starts over.

A few days later, on February 7th, we’re back home from the hospital and it is my one-year-from-last-chemo anniversary. Again, I have no time to feel things; I’m too busy checking my daughter’s oxygen levels and thanking whatever is out there, determining fate, that we are home. I don’t have time to think about what one-year-out-of-chemo even means to me. Is it bad? Is it good?

There are many interwoven moments throughout this rollercoaster where I’m able to grip my gratitude firmly. I’m here with her, not in my own hospital room. Not isolating myself from the possibility of her contagiousness and the threat of delaying chemo. These are the moments I desperately fight to live for. The ones where I get to be the great mom I’ve wanted to be. As I see her condition improve, I’m present and aware of how fortunate I am to have good healthcare, insurance, support, family- and most importantly, time.

I used to feel so guilty for missing work when my kids were sick. I would break my back before dropping the ball. This time, I cancel my work calls without a hint of hesitation or guilt. I drop the ball on what seems to be everything and everyone, including this beloved community. I’m reassured to see that my priorities have really changed, just like I said they would.

Thanks for your patience with me. I suspect, especially in this group of mothers, we’d all be doing exactly the same thing in that situation: cherishing that we’re even here at all. I think I’m slowly finding my way back, and I am grateful to be here.

Yours truly,

Marcella