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