Screw you Cancer

Last night I sat in my son’s bedroom and held him in my arms as he cried in pain.  His hip hurt and he couldn’t find relief from it.  I tried desperately to help.  I rubbed his hip, wiped his tears and whispered comforting words.  We tried different positions, distraction and holding him close, but it wasn’t enough.  I couldn’t take the pain away.  Not for the first time I felt powerless, frustrated and overwhelmed with sadness for failing to protect him from harm.

I don’t know if the pain is withdrawal due to the pause in his chemo.  Was he was too active yesterday for a child with leukaemia?  Will it happen again tonight, or perhaps tomorrow night?  Is it a sign of something more serious?  I don’t know.  A few nights ago he was sick during the night.  Was that caused by a virus, the drugs, or by something else entirely?  I don’t know that either, I just don’t know.

I try to stay positive.  I am aware every day that our journey with cancer could be so much harder and I am thankful, honestly I am.  So often life isn’t fair, but stamping my feet and complaining isn’t going to change that.  So I suck it up, just like everyone else tries to do with whatever rubbish life is currently throwing at them.

But last night I was scared, I was sad, but most of all I was angry.  Angry that not only does Hugo have to fight cancer, but he has to endure side effects from the very drugs that are supposed to be helping him.  I am frustrated that there is always so much we don’t know – the liver problems, potential low blood sugar, the reoccurring  problems with his walking.  I hate that we are here, that my wonderful, cheeky 3 year old son is fighting cancer.  How is that fair, how is any of this fair?

I don’t want to feel like this.  I don’t want my children to grow up surrounded by anger, or my family and friends to sense an air of bitterness every time they see me.   I know we will get through this, that Hugo will beat this and there will be better times ahead.  Tomorrow, I will dig deep and find my positivity again, but right now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to stand up and say ‘screw you cancer’.

Screw you for coming into our lives with such ease, bringing your fear, pain and sadness.   How dare you choose to mess with my child, with my family.  I am going to shout at the top of my voice that it’s not fair and I am going to stamp my feet until they hurt.  I will stick two fingers up at you on behalf of all those you have touched with your poisonous hand.  For all those whose lives have been forever altered because of your unwanted presence.  I shall release the full force of the anger, frustration and hurt that I feel, because today, I have had enough.  You have picked on the wrong person, the wrong family.

You see cancer, you may have brought pain and fear into our lives, but you have also taught us so much.  You have shown us that we are stronger than we look and braver than we ever thought possible.  My son is already beating you, for he has met you with courage, with dignity and with a smile on his beautiful little face.  He has love, support and kindness from all those that stand behind him, willing him on in this battle, lifting him up and giving him strength.  And he has me, his mummy, and my goodness I am mad now.  So you better prepare yourself for a fight cancer, because Hugo and his mighty army are coming for you.  You will not break our spirit, or bring us to our knees.  We are stronger than that, you have shown us just how strong.  So screw you cancer, screw you.