The monster in his head is dead, and our hearts are mending.
I really don't know where to post this…
But for random hardship comes so much kindness, goodness- the best in people. I experienced it first hand after my son's diagnosis with a large brain tumour the beginning of summer this year.
The day was mad, the symptoms came on hard and fast, and he was shuffled from doctor to doctor until his day ended with me driving like it was the only thing I could do (and it was). Driving. He joked his 3 year old corny jokes in between bouts of nausea. I'd pull off and see that he was "fine". Fine enough to keep driving. He didn't know about the monster in his head, really, and neither did I. I just knew we still didn't have answers, and whatever was happening wasn't good. It took me 50 minutes to leave with him from our home and get parked at the children's hospital before I ran like hell with him in arms for that MRI. It was getting late. Late for people who usually work a 9-5. That's when MRI's are scheduled for. This wasn't on the schedule, but they insisted, they too knew whatever was happening wasn't good.
But it got better. Eventually.
I was alone that night. It was late by the time the neurologist (who is amazing) was ready to give me my little guy's diagnosis. I gazed at my fast asleep 3 year old who I loved so dearly, still wondering why he was so, so sick. Then I was given answers. Really hard answers. Had conversations that I'd truly do most anything to keep other parents from experiencing, ever. It really does feel like the world has fallen apart. My world fell apart. But my circle helped bring it back together.
My circle of support came around me shortly after that diagnosis. His father, broken-hearted himself, holding me with a promise that we'll get through whatever this fucked-up-reality is, old college friends offering everything from hugs to free-gym memberships, insisting I will get on with this, and I will have to sweat out some stress when I'm on the other side. And then came community. Our community cheered on my son. I then didn't get back home for weeks, and when I did it was for brief stays before back again. I'd quickly grow tired of being asked about my son from every other stray person I'd bump into when going place to place. I hated it. But they really only asked because they really, really cared. They cared enough to rally their own for prayer circles, or gather up groceries for us. They raised thousands of dollars for our family because they cared so much.
And on the other side, our boy is 4. He had a successful surgery that removed the entirety of a mandarin orange sized tumour from his brain. He completed 6 weeks of radiation treatments, and is left with scars, vision problems that will be surgically corrected soon, and really not much else. He's a normal boy. He likes to run through his yard with his brother. He tells funnier 4 year old sort of jokes now, and he even got on the mic and sang at the benefit event his friends and community put on for him.
I don't know whether life is random or something more calculated… but the real, hard moments, they do seem to just happen. They are random. But we are strong enough to rise up to them. There's something in all of us that just gets through. And it's even easier with a supportive community like ours who come together in caring and kindness.
"Be content with what you have; rejoice in the way things are. When you realize there is nothing lacking, the whole world belongs to you."
Last edited by AndreaJay; 10-07-2015 at 07:24 PM.