Last week I attended an “End of Treatment” day at the Marsden. The day was for parents with children coming to the end of their treatment and comprised of Q&A with consultants, nutritionists, behavioral therapists, a parent of a long term survivor and a long term survivor. I arrived late so I missed the introductions but very quickly into the first Q&A it became apparent that almost all of the parents there had children who only just came off treatment or even still were in their last weeks of treatment. Their worries and anxiety were so thick, so raw still.
In a group session one of the mum’s began to cry, saying that she just keeps thinking her son will surely relapse. It was hard to see her cry, to see her worry and I began to talk, to comfort her. As I spoke, I realized that what I was saying was really true, that I believed in it wholeheartedly and that I had needed to say it out loud more for myself than for her. I told her that I had felt the same, five months ago. That I was so scared for Vega to relapse. But five months have passed and Vega has recuperated somewhat, and I have recuperated somewhat, and although I still feel just as scared that she might relapse, I now feel that I could deal with it. That Vega could deal with it, that we all could. Five months ago, I was so at the end of my- everything. There was nothing left. A relapse would have meant a continuation of all the crap and I could seriously not imagine that I could have carried on. And I don’t think Vega could have carried on either. These last few months I had time to let the dust settle for a bit. To come to terms with it. And to understand that there is no fairness, or luck or anything that could be influenced by prayers, or love, or hope, or wishes. Those are the terms of cancer. Some people get it, young or old, rich or poor. Some people survive it and some don’t. I don’t hold grudges. I think I have past some of the stages of the grieving cycle, anxiety and anger maybe and I am now coming to acceptance.
Vega is so strong. I am so strong.