Judah and I went to ETCH this morning for his 1st off-week clinic check. It was an easy appt and with the Emla Cream, Judah didn’t even feel it when the nurse accessed his port! Oncology nurses are really good at sticks and Judah told her so! “That was way better than the other night that the ER. You are really good at that.”
His labs looked good so he will be having his 2nd Chemo next Thursday.
As we were waiting for his labs to come back, I thought about how amazing the nurses, Drs, and clinic is there at ETCH. Judah said, as we entered our patient room, “wow this room is very relaxing! I like it”. The nurse that accessed him was friendly and sweet. She joked with him that she could help with whatever he needed as long as it wasn’t his Math homework, haha. Judah’s oncologist Dr. Spiller, is just so good at what she does and really made an effort to connect with Judah and with me. We felt cared about and heard and loved. And when your kid is starting a year long chemo, those are the feelings you want to have! I am so very grateful to have ETCH Hem/Onc taking care of Judah!
I’m guessing all the the positivity we had today was making up for all the negativity we had yesterday. Judah was in a foul mood yesterday. It didn’t start off great because I am not the best at morning time anythings… I woke up, made breakfast, packed lunches, got dressed and felt like I was crushing it. And then Judah says, “Mom, we are supposed to be at school in 2 minutes. We are gonna be really late.” UGH! I’m telling you guys, I never remember just how much Matthew helps out in the mornings until he isn’t here. I just do not function well before 2 cups of coffee. So we were late. Like 15 minutes late. And Judah HATES being late. He was sitting in the back seat, saying, “I have a math test today and it usually starts right after devotion. If I miss the beginning of the math test, I won’t be able to finish it on time.” I do my best to reassure him, telling him that the joy of part-time homeschooling is that he can finish his test anytime. I tell him it’s not a big deal. But he isn’t having it.
We get to school, I walk them into class and remind Judah’s teacher that I will be back in an hr to take him to cancer counseling. But when I got to school to get him, he was on the verge of tears. I asked him what was wrong. Can you guess?? “I didn’t finish my math test Momma!” He was full blown crying now. And I was so thankful we were on the way to counseling. I knew Judah needed time with Dr. Reno and that she was really good at getting him to talk about whatever was eating him up inside. But 30 minutes in, his counselor ended the session at his request. He wouldn’t talk to her. He wouldn’t look at her. He cried/tried not to cry and shrugged his shoulders with every attempt to communicate. Finally she asked him if he wanted to end early and go back to school and he said yes.
After I spoke to his counselor for a few minutes about some tools Matthew and I can use to talk about Judah’s cancer, we left. He was very emotional on the way to the car and even yelled at me. “I asked you not to talk about my cancer so much and you said you wouldn’t, but that’s all you talk about anymore!” I was at this point that I realized my sweet Judah was not dealing with his cancer diagnosis well at all. I tried to explain to him that when I said that, it was when his tumor wasn’t growing. Now that it is growing again, I had to talk about it some. He just looked at me with frustration. He didn’t speak to me again until we were all the way through the Chick-Fil-A drive-thru line — at 11:30. If you’ve ever been there at lunch time, you know he was silent for like 20 minutes! When he finally talked to me again, he said, “will you please take me to school now?”
Guys, Judah and I have been doing cancer counseling and lunch dates every 2 wks for almost 4 yrs and it has always been a joy. But I think, maybe, that time is over for now. Cancer at 4-5 yrs old was hard. Watching Judah go through all that and him not be able to understand why was excruciating. I think cancer at 9-10 is going to be a whole lot harder though. He knows what’s going on. He gets it enough to be angry and dread every conversation. He is struggling. He is hurting. Let me tell you, not being able to help him is tearing me apart.
A friend sent me a verse last night, Isaiah 40:28-29
28 Have you not known? Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary;
his understanding is unsearchable.
29 He gives power to the faint,
and to him who has no might he increases strength.
I have no power. No strength. No understanding. But Jesus does. I choose to trust that He, whose understanding in unsearchable, will continue to give me the right words to say to Judah. Words to lift him up and restore his strength.
Instead, perhaps as a small mercy, we are sitting, surrounded by excited and scared little faces, waiting for a much smaller surgery so we can begin this fight again with chemotherapy. John Piper says, it’s ‘a grace given in the circle of a grace denied’.
