Thursday, May 21, 2009

Where to go from here

We told the girls yesterday about Papa. It went pretty well exactly how I thought it would. They cried, I cried and 10 minutes later they were giggling at Connor spitting at them.
Every now and then through the day Mary would ask me if I was sad or she'd tell me she missed him.
It occurred to me that while they knew he was sick and probably not coming home that they might have understood it as Papa will be living at the hospital so over dinner I had made a comment about when Papa goes to Heaven. No reaction but at least it was processed.
Mary and Emily both wanted some extra hugs last night and decided that if they were missing Papa they would hug the Webkinz he gave them when he came home from the hospital last week.
They are both excited about visiting him tonight too (provided he finally has a room)
I, however, am very nervous about it.
The mass on his brain and swelling is causing him a lot of confusion. I'm hoping that the steroids have already kicked in and that the swelling is reduced enough that some of the confusion is gone. I don't want the girls being afraid if Papa isn't making sense.
I was also disappointed to find out that the program I wanted to get the girls into, one that was meant for kids their age who have close family members with cancer, has already started it's 8 week cycle. It rotates with another group meant for kids who've lost a loved one to cancer so the chances of them getting into the group I wanted them in before September is slim. And by then I'm probably just going to get them into the Rainbows group through school.

I've learned a lot more than I ever wanted to know about cancer. Like Denise pointed out to me, it's good to know as much as you can so that when the Dr's are talking you know what they are saying without having to stop and ask for things in layman's terms. I was fortunate (?) enough to be there yesterday when one of the palliative care Dr's came to see my Dad yesterday. In talking with her my Dad questioned why, with all the medical care he's been under for the past four years for his diabetes, heart, etc, was nothing ever detected. It turns out that it's all about the kind of cancer he has. It probably wasn't there as recently as 6 months ago. It's that aggressive. Honestly, it doesn't give me much hope for the future and a desire to live each day to the fullest because in just a few short months your whole life can fall apart.

I've got the unfortunate advantage of having a lot of family and friends who've walked this road before me. Our family has a lot of support and that is priceless. I've also got my sanctuary, my escape from the real world. I can get on this computer and play on Facebook or get in heated debates about Jon and Kate Plus 8 on Fertility Friend (heehee) and for that time I can block the world out and pretend that everything is as it always was. I can be normal and I am so glad for that because if it weren't for that little slice of normalcy I don't know how I'd manage to be strong enough to walk this road with my family.

1 comment:

  1. Jean, remember too that you have friends that love you and your family as well, and that we are ALL here for you during this time, day or night .. anytime ... (( hugs my friend )) love you xo