I spent the first 18 months of my treatment and recovery focused on getting that clean bill of health one year post transplant. During that time, I did not deal with the emotions of having gotten sick. I did that after obtaining that clean bill of health in April 2014. Between May and July I allowed myself to come to terms, grateful for my healing. And felt like I could now move forward. But I didn't realize how deeply that 18 months affected my kids...until I ended up in the hospital in July. Especially my 10 year old daughter.
My kids got to go with Uncle Chris to take me to the Cancer Center with temperatures just shy of 104. Both were visibly shaken and were crying, but I told them I would be OK. And I was.
Today, I took my kids to school knowing it would be another 12 days before I would see them again. I have been dreading this for weeks and have been so anxious that I am not sleeping well. Neither has my daughter. While getting ready for school this morning, she asked "Mom, are you going to be OK while we are gone?" Not really understanding where this was coming from - I assumed she was referring to my being alone for that time - I replied "Yes." "I'm afraid to leave you. Afraid you won't be here when I get back. We haven't been away from you for this long EVER." Then she started to cry. And so did I. My almost seven year old son has become fiercely protective of me. Anytime I cough, Jamie wants to know if I am OK.
When I was little, my dad would travel for business and I was always terrifed he wouldn't come back. Now, here was my little girl telling me she was afraid I wouldn't be here when they got back. We cried and hugged and I told her once again that I would be OK and looked forward to seeing them in 12 days. And they would be OK too. But it got me thinking...
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