Since August, our boy has endured:
- A 2nd relapse of Leukemia
- Chemos and immuno therapies
- Rashes, vomiting, diarrhea, and fevers
- 6 surgeries, including an appendectomy
- 2 stem cell transplants
- BK virus with a bleeding bladder and passing blood clots the size of earthworms
- A life-threatening infection of Mucor
- Almost losing his life because of TMA
- Being sedated and on a ventilator
- Graft vs Host Disease
- 3 hospital admissions, this last one lasting 77 consecutive days (and counting)
Last night, I was looking at a picture of Andrew standing on the grass in front of Quincys’ building, doing probably his 100th “window visit” with one of our many supporters. I zoomed in, and there was Quincy, in his window on the 2nd floor, smiling for the camera. Bald, thin, pale, on an IV pole, and cooped up, separated from the world outside. Looking at him in that photo sent me right back to how I have felt on and off my whole life, like I never really belonged anywhere. Never really made my dreams come true. Never felt like I was part of a specific group of friends. Never felt like I was part of the pack in any work situation. Always an outsider. In that photo, Quincy personified my life-long innter struggle. Before I burst into tears, my Pollyanna superpower went into action - I saw the brighter side of a shitty situation. He is NOT the outsider. Everyone LOVES our Quincy Bear. While he has been an “insider”, he has had experiences that none of his friends have had. He has been immersed in the medical field, conversing with adults, identifying and verbalizing his needs, and taking ownership of how some medications are administered (dilution ratios and the speed of administration), line flushes, and dressing changes. These experiences have matured him and have given him a "voice" and a sense of autonomy. He has been challenged to endure pain and suffering, which I would never wish upon him, but my hope is that these experiences will make him stronger. Damn, my kid has always been a tough cookie, but going forward, I believe he might turn into a real-life Thor, and his will to survive will be his Mjölnir.
I hate that this has happened to my son. Never did I think that he’d have to face so much when he was first diagnosed, but here we are, still at war. For the past 5 years, I have been trying to figure out who exactly I am mad at. The answer has never been God. How can I possibly be mad at an invisible force that I do not believe makes day-to-day decisions on our behalf? The words, “God has a plan, " do not resonate with me. I don’t believe that God makes individualized choices for each of us, or that there are divine reasons for things. I believe we are subject to life’s twists and turns because we are human. We are living organisms having experiences on this planet, and my son has been given a raw deal on Planet Earth. Things don’t always have to make sense; shitty situations don’t always have to have a purpose. I believe people look for, and either find or create, a “purpose” to cope with challenging situations, and then call it "God's Plan". It doesn’t make me a bad person not to put my full faith in God. Yes, I pray, I believe, I meditate, I “vibe”, I manifest. I do everything I can to change the vibrations in the universe to make my son healthy again… but I will never blame God for creating this devastating situation. I am pinning all of my anger and rage onto the thing that I finally realized I’m mad at.
I’m mad at CANCER.
So when I punch the pillow, throw the plastic ax in our backyard, scream in the car, scream in the bathroom, huck shit across the bedroom… I know where I’m directing my anger…it’s at cancer. Not at the beautiful universe that connected me to Andrew, not at Mother Nature who sparked Quincy and Reece’s life in my belly… It’s mother fucking cancer. Acute Myloid Leukemia, to be exact.
- Cancer is complicating Quincy and Reece’s childhoods
- Cancer temporarily took me away from the brand-new career that I worked so damn hard for
- Cancer makes Andrew and me fight more often
- Cancer put Quincy on a ventilator (the most terrifying moment of my life)
- Cancer has made me gain a ton of weight and lose a ton of hair
- Cancer took my sister
But cancer will NOT take my son. Reece gave his bone marrow, Andrew and I gave our stem cells; every day I pour all of my Mama healing powers into his little body with the belief in his ability to overcome. I have created an impenetrable shield for him against disease and harm because, as Thor once said, “I am made of love and thunder”, and so is Quincy.
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| 2022 |
