When the ambulance was called to take me to the hospital, when my symptoms and fever became unbearable, I knew it would traumatize my daughter. So, getting on the gurney myself became a staple. “Mommy’s just going to see the doctor with the ambulance, so I can get there faster. It’s more comfortable for me on the bed. See?”
If she wasn’t suspiciously quiet, she would ask, “Mommy, can I come with you?” If that’s not separation anxiety, I don’t know what is. It hurt me so much to leave her and to frighten her, but I had to do whatever was necessary to get better. I suppose that’s fighting cancer – and she gave me the will to get through it. I felt her love, just having her in my life.
“Mommy will be back soon. And Daddy will bring me home, ok?”
Twice I had to be hospitalized, about one week each time, near the onset of chemotherapy. The potion was too strong for me. Every normal symptom became exaggerated several times over. High fever added to the mix. These overemphasized manifestations are what caused the exceptional hair loss. The nurses took me to an isolation ward straightaway, until my vitals were back to normal, and I was hydrated enough to go home.
Another anniversary this week! On September 28, I’ll have survived lucky year number 13 following my stomach cancer operation… feeling blessed!