I hate that it turns my affable little boy into a wild animal who growls and beats on everything in site.
I hate that a temperature of 99 degrees leaves me worrying that he is getting sick. I mean, it’s elevated by .04 degrees! That should mean nothing!
I hate that my heart breaks anew on a regular basis. Today it happened when Jack melted down for no real reason, then told me about his friend’s brother who got cancer in “a place we don’t talk about” (he pointed to his genitals). That is so SCARY for a little boy!
I hate that much of our quality time has been taken up by dressing changes and medication and doctor appointments and blood tests.
I hate that my own health has suffered, as well.
I hate that we don’t know what’s going on in Jack’s body, that we have to blindly trust that the medications are working.
I hate the fact that all the immunizations he had may be wiped out.
I hate that we have to deal with school and work when what we really need is a mental health day (week/month/year).
Much to my surprise, I hate that Jack doesn’t energetically pop out of bed on his own at 7am like he used to.
I hate that I have to give my child poison and make him feel even worse and risk damaging his vital organs.
I hate that I have to be strong for him when all I want to do is hide under the covers and cry.
I hate that I can’t wrap my brain around money because of all the stress…and I hate the credit card debt that has resulted.
I hate being so sapped and bone tired all the time.
I hate that I no longer have the time or energy to devote to friendships and family members and taking more than decent care of myself.
I hate that cancer is on my mind ALL.THE.TIME.
I hate the constant pull to just give up – that I can’t possibly listen to even a little bit.
Cancer is bullshit and I hate it. A lot.