"What's Wrong with Your Skin?"

On the eve of the eve of the eve of my 3 year Cancerversary, it seems appropriate that my stepson asks those 6 little words: “What’s wrong with your skin?”

As I’ve previously blogged before, I’ve never hidden my cancer from G, but I’ve never flat out said, “I have cancer.” He knows that we have to be very careful in the sun, that sunscreen is a must, and that I travel to New York every 3 months to see my doctor. He, the little 3 year old sweet pea, watched as I threw up two nights after my first major surgery due to too much pain medicine. He points at my “boo-boos” and my “sunken hole” in my neck. He’s aware I’ve been sick. He just hasn’t heard the word Cancer.

I hear from parents who think I’m shielding him too much. I receive emails from dads who think I’m doing the right thing by educating him without scaring him. I hear it all. (Hello, hate mail! Hello, love letters!) But, I know our little guy which is why I’ve always felt like I’ve handled my sickness in the best way possible when it comes to him.

So, you can imagine my surprise when I walk into daycare yesterday, and the very first thing he says to me is, “What’s wrong with your skin?” I touch my face and say, “I don’t know?” We pack up and head to the car. I help him into his booster seat and he says again, “What’s wrong with your skin?” Again, I tell him I don’t know; I will have to look. I get into my seat and pull down the mirror, “I don’t see anything.”

Then he says something I wasn’t expecting: “My mommy said your skin made you sick. I can’t kiss your or give you my germs because we can’t let you get sick.”

Oh.

So the time has come.

On the car ride home from daycare yesterday, I have that conversation I didn’t want to have. “Remember my boo-boos and the hole in my neck? Well when I was a kid I had too many sunburns and I used a tanning bed. When I got older, those years of burns caught up with me and made me very sick. It gave me something called melanoma. That is why I go to New York and why we always use sunscreen.” He thinks about it for a second and says, “So you are sick?” I sigh. “No buddy. I’m not sick. I was sick, but I go back to the doctor often to make sure that I don’t get sick again. I just have to be careful when it comes to catching germs because I have to go see my doctor next week.” That seemed to satisfy him.

…At least until we got home. G points to my back, “But you still have a boo-boo.” I told him to feel my scar, to prove to him that it doesn’t hurt, that it has healed. That, knowing I wasn’t hurt, satisfied him and he ran off to play.

I am very lucky that I’ve never had to be brutally honest with G. I’m glad I’ve never had to tell him “I have cancer.” I feel extremely fortunate that I’ve always just been his Chelsea.

Today, on the eve of the eve of my 3 year Cancerversary, I pray that I never have to tell him otherwise.



*I'm very thankful G's mom is very considerate of my health & the need to keep germs away! :-)

Avoiding Cancer

 How do you explain cancer to a child?

I'll follow up that question by saying I don't think there's a correct answer.

Y'all know that I have a special little man in my life. He's now 6 and pretty much the greatest kid ever. We're lucky that we have him 50% of the time, and I feel so thankful to have been able to develop an awesome relationship with him. G was 3 when I was diagnosed with melanoma. We never told G what was going on, just that I was a little sick and the doctors had to make me better. He was around during my recoveries after both surgeries, he has inspected my battle wounds, and he still references the sunken "hole" I have in the side of my neck. During the recovery period he was told quite often to be gentle with me.

We've always gotten away with just telling G that I was a little sick, the doctors had to make me better, and that's why I have scars. He was 3 for goodness sake! It was easy! He knows the importance of sunscreen--and as his mom told me, he's quick to remind everyone else of the importance of sunscreen--and while he knows that the lack of sun protection led me to this disease, he doesn't know the disease by name. It isn't something we talk about yet. I've never--nor do I want to--tell G that I had/have cancer. Not yet.

Tonight we ran into a little situation.

Our beautiful friend was recently diagnosed with breast cancer. As she has a husband and two young children, we wanted to do a little something that could help make things a tiny bit easier so we took dinner to them tonight. G made a card, wrote "Get well soon!" and knew to be very gentle with Mrs. Mel. We didn't think anything else about telling Gavin the reason why Mel is sick.

As we were driving down the road tonight, G says, "Why is she sick?" I start babbling about how she had a surgery that is similar to the one I had a few years ago, and G interrupts me, "I know, but what made her sick? What made her have to have surgery?"

How do you introduce Cancer to a sensitive 6 year old?

Mr. Spots and I both started babbling. I have no idea what he said, I said something like "she was a little sick so the doctors had to remove what was making her sick!" and then I changed the subject.

I know. I'm postponing it. But I know this kid.... I know he will worry about it, and I know Cancer will be mentioned until something else comes around for him to worry about. He's just like that. He has a sensitive heart and he will worry. So I avoided it. Again.

Only a few hours later, it almost came back up again.

I was tucking him into bed, giving him one last snuggle, when he said "I don't want you to leave." I said, "I know! But we are going to spend all day tomorrow and I'll be back in just a few days!" He asked me why I have to go, and then he said one little statement that hurt my heart: "We will need to be gentle with you."

I don't know if it's because of seeing Mrs. Mel tonight that reminded him of the recovery days, or if he just associates me going to NY for appointments as being something that may cause me pain, but he understands the seriousness of these trips.

I just can't introduce such a cruel disease to him just yet. He has seen enough of it without even knowing what it is. Can't I just protect him for a little longer?

Sigh.

On that note, I'm off to bed. It's that time again. That time being the time to fly back to New York for my next set of scans and treatment. Fingers crossed...

XO