Too Moody For This

June 4, 2011

Last night my 12-year-old daughter got in trouble with her father and he just barely raised his voice at her.  Her response to this was to look at him and say, do not yell at me.  I wasn’t sure if my husband’s head was going to explode or not…it was touch and go there for a while.  My reaction, on the other hand, was to cry.  This has been happening more and more often lately.  I went to the grocery store and my husband told me I bought the wrong kind of cheese – I could feel my chin quivering and the tears forming in my eyes.

I’m turning 42 this month.  I know what menopause feels like, because I had the honor of going through it when I went through chemo.  Not only is it my birthday this month, but it’s also my 2 year cancer free anniversary – which means it’s been two years since I’ve had a hot flash or a major mood swing.  So, ok, I’m going through menopause, right?  Am I just starting menopause at the ripe old age of 42?  Is this a carry over from chemo?  Is it cancer?  Is it cancer? Is it cancer?  I get so tired of thinking that. 

 I see my oncologist every 4 months now.  It’s been 5 months since my last appointment.  Putting off going to the doctor doesn’t change what the outcome is going to be.  Intellectually I know this.  When they found the lump in my breast, they told me to trust them, because it was probably nothing.  Boy, were they wrong that time.  If I hear that again this time, I think my head will explode.


Those three little words. by throwslikeagirl

July 24, 2010

“You’re no fun.”

A couple of weeks ago, my oldest child said this to me, followed closely by, “You never do anything anymore.”,  not realizing at all how that cuts.   Some of you are probably thinking, “Big deal, Nicole.  Kids say stuff like this all the time ”

But it is.  The last three summers I haven’t been any fun.  Surgery/Chemo.  Surgery/infection.  Surgery.  And in this case she wasn’t referring to some parental comment like “Our sofa is not a jungle gym, please sit down.” (Which she has heard on occasion.)  She was sad because she couldn’t go somewhere due to my inability to drive post surgery.

When I was first diagnosed, I worried about how she would cope with all the weirdness of having a mom with cancer.  At first, I thought she’d be afraid.  But she wasn’t.  I thought she might be clingy.  But again, she was her usual gregarious self.  She would talk to anybody and everybody about my cancer.  (I’m sure she gets that from me.)  There is no playground conversation stopper quite like, “Hi there!  Did you know my mom has one boob?”  (And no, I’m not  exaggerating.  She actually said that.)

So then I worry that my children have become intolerant of my medical issues.  The boy still cuts me some slack, but man, the girl is giving me a hard time.   “Do I have to do all your jobs for you?”  Let me tell you how well that one went over.  😛  Thankfully, my mama friends say that their 7 year olds are the same way, which makes me feel better.  I’m hoping to chalk it up to my horse blinder theory in which kids (and some adults, heh) can really only see the world as it relates to themselves with little regard to the bigger picture.  One of our job as parents and educators is to help our children learn the empathy skills that enable them to see the world outside of themselves.

I don’t want you to get the idea that the girl is nasty all the time.  She’s not and is generally very helpful.  I think it’s just those well-timed zings that she doesn’t truly understand that prey upon my fears as a parent. 

Am I no fun?  Has cancer made me a bad mama?

Of course not.

But I think it’s time for empathy training boot camp.  🙂

Crossposted to Throws Like A Girl


Chemotherapy Induced Time Travel

March 29, 2009

(crossposted from Coffee and Chemo)

My son and I were sitting down for an afternoon snack together.

Suddenly, I had a major hot flash!

I explained that my drug induced menopause caused it. I then elaborated that women usually go through menopause around age 50.

“You mean,” my son asked, with a twinkle in his eye, “you went forward in time?!”


Why is that funny?

March 17, 2009

(cross posted, and edited a bit, from Coffee and Chemo)
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On our way home tonight, tired and giddy, my kids and I were laughing about the whole cancer thing. (I know it sounds strange but, trust me, it was funny)

“What is a support group?” asked my youngest daughter.

My eldest daughter jumped in and answered that my support group is “for women with cancer.”

“Not just any old cancer,” I pointed out.

“OK, women with breast cancer,” my eldest corrected herself.

“Not necessarily breast cancer,” I corrected her this time, “women with metastasis.”

“What’s metastasis?” my youngest asked, still confused.

Here, my son jumped in “cancer that is not going away.”

It might sound like a heavy conversation, but it was really quite lighthearted.

I mentioned that, earlier in the day, my sister mercilessly referred to my group as “poor, sick people who sit around talking about cancer.” my eldest, my son, and I burst out laughing.

“Why is that funny?” my youngest asked, even more confused.

“It’s not,” I answered, after a brief pause…. “which is why it is so funny!”

And we burst out laughing some more.


Clusterfook update

February 27, 2009

Please go read an update on our dear friend and contributor, Lisa, from Clusterfook.  She has brightened our days here and spoken truth about cancer.  Most of all, she has spoken love of her children, and worked to help them have good memories of this time and lessons that they will take with them forever.

Lisa, we love you.  Go in peace.

Edited to add: Lisa’s gone.