I started writing this blog over 3 months ago. The gist was going to be that the life certainties I wrote about over 5 years ago (tweezers traveling along wherever I go, the near-daily practice of taking vitamins, exercising and meditating, and receiving regular massages) were all still proving their importance in the contentment of life. I planned to add yoga and stretching to the mix and elaborate on my experiences with both in a convincing and witty way. But then two things happened. The first was that I noticed when I’m following my own advice about daily exercise, yoga, stretching, and meditation that my time gets too crowded to transform my thoughts into black and white. The other thing that happened took precedence over anything and everything else I was thinking about or had going on. My stepson was diagnosed with leukemia.
If I were given a million guesses as to what the summer of 2024 held for my family, I never would have come up with this reality. One of the kids having a sport-induced injury would have seemed likely, or maybe even one of us adults coming down with a wacky ailment that turned our nails green would have been a guess. Winning the lottery would have been more of a hope than a prediction, but an unexpected inheritance floating our way wouldn’t have been a too-far off speculation. (It could happen.) Our youngest of the bunch, a healthy & intelligent 17-year-old athlete who is constantly on the go with basketball or baseball, existing with blood cancer is sincerely the last thing I could have ever expected.
Lots of parents have asked about symptoms. Persistence was the key, because his two main symptoms could adjoin many conditions. There are two that stick out now, looking back. He had chronic headaches (meaning damn near every day) towards the top and back of his head. We kept reminding him to take Claritin or Mucinex because Indiana Spring weather always wreaks havoc on sinuses. He also woke us up during the night with shortness of breath, specifically saying, “I feel like I can’t breathe and it’s scaring me.” We directed him to go outside for fresh air and to try deep breaths and an asthma inhaler that we had in the house. This was followed up with a doctor visit.
The first visit to the doctor led to an Emergency Room visit that resulted in nothing but a prescription for pain medication. The second, about two months later, resulted in some blood tests that came back wonky. After an entire Friday of blood tests at the hospital he was told he either had a virus or cancer. Enjoy the weekend.
On Tuesday morning, he underwent a bone marrow biospy and about 6 pm on that night, we were informed of the diagnosis: Acute B Cell Leukemia. It was surreal, and honestly, a few weeks in, it still is. Listening to the doctor explain a chemotherapy schedule and its side effects and the medications needed for the side effects took no less than 45 minutes. Overwhelming and numb are the words that come to mind to describe that interaction.
Here we are, entering into week 3 of what his dad has dubbed “Living with Leukemia.” Knowing what’s ahead is gut-wrenching. When I was going through my second divorce, I kept being told it was going to get worse before it got better and this is that, multiplied by a lot. The first month of chemo is intense as fuck to put it gently. Acute Leukemia means the cancer is growing rapidly so the doctors have to attack it hard and fast. Daily medications and weekly chemo treatments for a month will finish off with another bone marrow biopsy. Incredibly, he could be cancer free as of then. But, although this cancer can be kicked quickly, it also frequently comes back. This means 8-9 additional months of weekly chemo and then monthly for the rest of 2 and a half years. Feeling helpless as a parent when your kiddos are facing pain is terrible and knowing that I have made plenty of life choices that would qualify me as more deserving of this disease is even worse.
When doctors explain what’s ahead, they don’t really tell you there are other options, like choosing the untraditional route of not following their advised treatment plan. No one wants to think about having this choice in front of them, but my monkey mind has wondered…what would I do? Living on chemo sounds worse than living with cancer. So, I am simply in awe of how this young man has forged ahead bravely, unwaveringly, with a positive attitude 95.5% of the time. He is doing what needs to be done now to have a long, healthy life ahead of him even if it is utterly going to suck balls for awhile.
The heaviness of cancer has made all other issues menial. A business post showing how proud I am of a paint project would have felt downright distasteful when I had a kiddo in the hospital. And how can I give two shits about my constant facial stray hairs (thus a constant need for tweezer access) at this point in my life? When I catch myself grumbling a complaint about back pain, I quickly think, are you kidding me?! Leukemia trumps all of these problems; they are slight little hiccups along the trail of life compared to the mountain of beating cancer. I felt a twinge of guilt when I ran into a friend at the gym the other day, I guess because time to myself right now feels greedy. I quickly came to, though, reminding myself that being in alignment with what my inner being knows is purer than any outside judgement that might be cast. My core knows that exercise, stretch, vitamin and meditation practices are now more important than ever. Upholding my mental and physical health will allow me to give and be my all to my family.
Life has taught me that blessings are always found in what appears to be a mess. From hospital room card games lasting ’til 2 am to house sanitizing, our close family has felt even closer. Our health, food choices and otherwise, have also been elevated since being mentally present and at our best 100% of the time is now a non-negotiable. Our community support has been unfathomable. Friends, families, schools, churches, health-care providers and organizations – every dynamic possible that this has been touched by this story, has shown their presence, support and love. I feel both strength and weepiness when I reflect on this. The trajectory of all of our lives changed on June 4th. I’ve wondered if this experience will create new career interests for any of our soon-to-be adults in the stages of choosing their life paths. I have no doubt that when my stepson is allowed to return to sports, he will come back with a vengeance, stronger and more determined than ever. Personally, my thoughts and interactions are more poignant now. I’m positive this experience will be a thread woven in my stories and life from here on forward.
Thank you for sharing. I’m so very sorry you and your family are going through so much. My prayers are going up for complete healing for your stepson; comfort and strength for all of you; and wisdom and discernment for the medical staff. 💙❤️
Thank you sweet lady. I work through things with words, so this had to be written. Miss your face!
Love your perspective of brutal honesty and absolute positivity. Always lifting BC up in prayer, and sending our love to all of you! 💕🥰💕
Thank you lady! We appreciate you and your family and the support of so many throughout this journey.
I’m so sorry to hear that BC and your family are going through this. Sending hugs and prayers for all of you.
Thank you lady! We have definitely felt all the love and know that he’s going to get to the other side even stronger.
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