Friday, February 20, 2009
Fuck You, Cancer.
I know, I haven't posted in a while. Several reasons for that. Too many for me to go into.
But while I feel the need to post this tonight, it's all wrong for facebook, or for e-mailing, or for phone calling. It's for journaling, which I only do online for whatever reason.
When you last hit me hardest, Big C, you scared the shit out of my kids. I got The Call on a Sunday morning and screamed in my bedroom, like that would change the outcome. (?)
Moments before I had my meltdown, I had the presence of mind to tell my oldest "go get Daddy" as I clutched the phone to my ear and my heart. I knew he was out front mowing the lawn, and that he would take over what I felt slipping outside my parental controls. It was several months coming, but nevertheless, life-stopping.
I'm sorry that my children sat sobbing in the living room on the couch as they listened to my agonized wails as I pounded my bed and walls and threw anything I could get my hands on in my bedroom. I felt horrible that I had to e-mail my kids' teachers to let them know what they had been through, watching their mom collapse. I both repelled and welcomed those teachers' hugs when offered as I showed up in black the day of the funeral, the day I said my final goodbye to a friend that should never have been taken, if 'good person' points had been handed out.
Flash forward to today, 3.5 years later. My heart was ripped out all over again. Watching these children sob as they sang "Just One Person" to honor a musical director who devoted her life to the love of teaching children. My daughter, greeting me as she walked down the aisle after the service, her face stained with tears. A production in progress, with a big whole in the middle. A song, missing a voice.
These kids, who knew Lana was hurting, but found out on a Saturday morning that You were at work and would take her one day later. Watching them therapeutically singing and dancing today gave me hope that they were grieving healthier than me, but scared me nonetheless. Who is next in this mean game?
WHEN???? When do we figure this out, this cancer shit? When do we stop the heartbreak, the children who mourn? Those that will become parents without their parents present to share the glow of grandparenthood? The parents who lose children too early? The spouses whose life adventures are just beginning?
I want this pain to STOP.
But while I feel the need to post this tonight, it's all wrong for facebook, or for e-mailing, or for phone calling. It's for journaling, which I only do online for whatever reason.
When you last hit me hardest, Big C, you scared the shit out of my kids. I got The Call on a Sunday morning and screamed in my bedroom, like that would change the outcome. (?)
Moments before I had my meltdown, I had the presence of mind to tell my oldest "go get Daddy" as I clutched the phone to my ear and my heart. I knew he was out front mowing the lawn, and that he would take over what I felt slipping outside my parental controls. It was several months coming, but nevertheless, life-stopping.
I'm sorry that my children sat sobbing in the living room on the couch as they listened to my agonized wails as I pounded my bed and walls and threw anything I could get my hands on in my bedroom. I felt horrible that I had to e-mail my kids' teachers to let them know what they had been through, watching their mom collapse. I both repelled and welcomed those teachers' hugs when offered as I showed up in black the day of the funeral, the day I said my final goodbye to a friend that should never have been taken, if 'good person' points had been handed out.
Flash forward to today, 3.5 years later. My heart was ripped out all over again. Watching these children sob as they sang "Just One Person" to honor a musical director who devoted her life to the love of teaching children. My daughter, greeting me as she walked down the aisle after the service, her face stained with tears. A production in progress, with a big whole in the middle. A song, missing a voice.
These kids, who knew Lana was hurting, but found out on a Saturday morning that You were at work and would take her one day later. Watching them therapeutically singing and dancing today gave me hope that they were grieving healthier than me, but scared me nonetheless. Who is next in this mean game?
WHEN???? When do we figure this out, this cancer shit? When do we stop the heartbreak, the children who mourn? Those that will become parents without their parents present to share the glow of grandparenthood? The parents who lose children too early? The spouses whose life adventures are just beginning?
I want this pain to STOP.
# posted by Unemployed Nurse Jack @ 10:54 PM 
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My 11 year old daughter curled into a ball on the floor of her closet and wailed "Why does everybody leave me?" on the night that I had to tell her that I had breast cancer. It was the darkest moment of my life.
Emmy,
Shortly behind one of my own children being fatally injured or diagnosed with a terminal or otherwise horrible illness lies my second greatest fear: Dying before my children are fledged from the nest and flying on their own.
Thank you for sharing your raw wound with us. I hope that you had(have) a favorable outcome and your daughter's fears have been calmed. I wish your family the best, truly.
Shortly behind one of my own children being fatally injured or diagnosed with a terminal or otherwise horrible illness lies my second greatest fear: Dying before my children are fledged from the nest and flying on their own.
Thank you for sharing your raw wound with us. I hope that you had(have) a favorable outcome and your daughter's fears have been calmed. I wish your family the best, truly.
As a nurse, I have recently seen more cancer in the last few weeks than I have in my entire (somewhat short) career as a cardiac ICU nurse. It is beyond tragic. Just this past week, I echoed your words, "Fuck you, cancer."
# posted by 
: 8:50 PM
: 8:50 PM
Wow, I just spent so much time reading back through every single post you've ever written, starting at the beginning so I could justify subscribing and being up-to date on my reader. And then I realized you haven't posted since February.
Hope all is well in the SNJ family!
Hope all is well in the SNJ family!
I think that your blog is meaningful on the topic of cancer, I to have been touched by the dark demond of cancer and it really ends with a happy note. However as long as we stay strong and united we one day could over come this horrific monster called cancer that is taking so many of our loved ones away from us.
# posted by : 12:16 PM
: 12:16 PM
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# posted by : 8:16 AM
: 8:16 AM
Wow, Daniel. That's quite a stretch from on-your-knees in grief to...Viagra. I'm going to leave your stupid lame-ass spam comment up so everybody can see what a douche you are.
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