Today I spent the whole day at RCH. Waiting mostly, with a bit of chemo and blood transfusion to round out the day. Enjoying the one on one time with Evie. Just bobbing along. Not thinking too hard about why we were there......because my baby girl has Cancer. Cancer. On the whole, on a day to day basis, I don't sit around moping about it. I get on with life. I do housework. I do Kinder runs. I cook meals. I watch telly at night. I know she has Cancer. I never forget it for a second. But I don't actually think about it too much. I wonder if that sounds strange to outsiders? Probably. Quite possibly that's not really what I mean. I can't quite put what I do mean exactly into words.
But anyway, the point is, there are times when I do think about it. Hard. And it makes me sad. Utterly and completely sad. For so many reasons. All of which I could never express in one hit. Sometimes I'm only sad for a moment.....usually because I don't let myself dwell on it. I shift my focus. Because if I don't I will end up a blubbering mess, going over and over and over that day. That horrible, horrible day when we first found out. Playing out that moment when I spied the rash on her little arm. Remembering the clothes she was wearing, that I can't bring myself to put on her again. That god-awful feeling when we were led into that room. The hysteria that simply overcame me, over which I had no control. The whirlwind that happened in that tiny room when we arrived at RCH. And more. So much more. So many feelings, none positive. So I stop. I save it for another day.
One day she will ask me you know. And I will sit. And tell her everything she wants to know. Because it is her story. And while it makes me sad. It is special, because it is what makes her life her own. And I will cry.