Friday, October 24, 2008

Going Nucking Futs....

I tend to respond to bad news the same way that my oldest brother does: with relatively inappropriate jokes. I've gotten better over the years, but some habits die hard. When The Wife told me about The Boy's tumor, I had that scene from Family Guy run through my head. You know the 80's tune that's got the rhythmic chant "Amadeus, Amadeus... Amadeus, Amadeus, Amadeus," etc? The same thing happens inside Peter Griffin's brain, except a tumor-shaped thing says, "I'm a tumor, I'm a tumor... I'm a tumor, I'm a tumor, I'm a tumor," etc. Ugh.

I'm frustrated as all heck about this whole thing. The worst part about it is, there is no target on which for me to be frustrated! Who can I get mad at: The Boy, for getting sick? The doctors, for following the current Wilms' Tumor protocols for his stage(s) of tumors? The surgeon, for waiting two months for the surgery? Well, maybe the third - but, then again, the way it grew was strange. We could very well be looking at a third surgery, if they had done the surgery in August as scheduled.

This pretty much cements my wife taking a couple of months' off of work, for family leave. If chemo intensifies, we're more than a little bit concerned about being able to take care of him. We're going to miss a lot of days of work if she's not home, not to mention paying for the babysitter anyway. The chemo is difficult enough on The Boy as it is. If it gets more intense, then we're worried about his response to it.

Thankfully (ironically enough), I've had enough therapy in my life to be able to deal with the depression that has overtaken my life. I feel quite hopeless right now, as the light at the end of the tunnel has retreated back a mile or two. It feels like there's not a damn thing in the world that I can do to help him or to fix it. Heck, I've even been (authentically) praying for things to get better - first time in my life I've ever truly, sincerely prayed for anything. Nothing seems important, nothing seems real, nothing feels normal. I'm walking around, a little light-headed, a little nauseous, with a headache, a tense back and a jaw that hasn't unclenched in three weeks.

It's hard, because I need to be there for my son, my wife and myself. I feel pulled in fifty different directions and feel unable to focus on any of them - first time in my life that I've let this many balls hit the ground. I'm used to juggling fifteen different things at a time - school, classes, marching band, lessons, friends, family, etc., etc. Right now? If I get to school on time, it's a victory.

(For the record - I have been late to school, unintentionally [read: doctor's appointments], a total of six times and 18 minutes in my 9 years of teaching. It doesn't happen.)

Ugh.

Lunchtime. I'm not hungry, but I need to eat. I'm taking Alleve to help my back, and it makes me more nauseous.

7 comments:

Paul D. Keiser said...

You're used to jggling thing that are largely under your control to start with. Imagine juggling 15 balls, happy as a lark, and someone tosses a flaming bicycle writhing with poisonous cobras at you. That's what happened, as I see it.

There was no way to predict it, and nothing to do but the best you can, and leave the rest to God.

2 things I've learned in my ample 34 years on this planet:

1) If you hit rock bottom, there's nowhere to go but up.

2) With true friends, you will NEVER hit rock bottom.

Thoughts, love and prayers to you you, the Wife, and the Boy.

Jennifer said...

I'm sorry about the tumor news. I've been thinking of you and your family and reading your updates. There's nothing I can say to help...I just wish David didn't have to go through this!

monica said...

i'm so sorry to hear the news - i have reading your posts pretty much daily and keeping up with the news =
please remember that the tumor is stage 1 and hasn't spread, and that you ahve a really great support network - i would offer to be a part of it if i lived closer than california -
i will be thinking positive thoughts for you and your family - and please eat!!

Band Momma said...

I like what Paul said. Sounds like a good friend. You guys have to remember to take care of yourselves too or you'll be no good to David. Go easy on the aleve, so you don't rot your stomach out. We'll keep doing our praying job here and if there's anything AT ALL that you guys need, you have our number.

donna m. said...

I've been keeping up with your posts and have always been praying. I am thinking of all of you and still praying. Stay strong. You need to be for yourselves and for The Boy.
Think about your day the way The Boy sees every day. Find something to explore, to laugh about, and snuggle. Children know how to always be happy. Use this to keep a positive attitude. Being positive, even though what is happening just plan stinks, helps you to stay strong and healthy. I know it's not something you're used to, but try to be optimistic.

Mama B said...

MD, I am so sorry you and your family are having to go through this. Like others have said, I have been refreshing your blog numerous times a day, praying for good news for David. I hope the next surgery goes as well as can be expected and you retain your courage and strength for the next stage of the fight. With love x

the mol said...

Correction: the tumor is in Lois' brain. She asks what the harm is in repressing her anger, and in response, they cut to a Peter-shaped brain tumor.