The love I feel for the other mothers I’ve met who have children with cancer is indescribable. I can’t imagine how parents navigated their children’s treatment before the advent of social media. Since launching the rainbow star project, I’ve met even more families, and while this is extremely rewarding, it also increases the number of people in my world who are experiencing setbacks, hospitalizations, devastating news. I think relapse is my least favorite word in the world. I don’t want to hear it again. I hesitated even typing it, for fear of bringing energy in its direction.
Maybe it was because of the exposure to several unhappy stories today that made me feel edgy. Paranoid. I checked the pill box at least three times this morning. I worked for a few hours, then then decided to bring the boys lunch at school. I was happy to see Benji feeling well. I stared at him a little too long, I’m sure. Just as I was leaving, a young man, maybe college aged, walked up to the locked gate near the cafeteria and asked if I could let him in. I said no. I told him to go to the front office and sign in with his identification. He made me nervous, for no logical reason. Even though it made me a little late dropping Banyan’s lunch off, I walked Benji back to his classmates in the cafeteria and waited with them until lunch was over, scanning the room. I realize this behavior was a little crazy. I wonder if I was personifying some of my own fear onto the man.
After school, Benji was extremely tired. This is typical the day after a baseball game. He also said his side and his back hurt. His side was sensitive to the touch. I ran through my inner checklist. His liver? No, even if the enzymes were elevated, he wouldn’t feel pain. I’m sure it’s just a side stitch from exercising. We rested until his guitar lesson. Benji has really made progress with his new instrument. Banyan brought a friend home today and we enjoyed a fun and normal evening. Homework, dinner, basketball at dusk with Michael. Normal. I don’t know why fear came knocking today. It hasn’t left my doorstep. But I will not let it in.