November 11, 2015
A little insight into what kids see when you don't know they're looking, and how I came in second place to Thomas Edison.
When I was diagnosed with cancer, my kids were five and eight years old. Instantly at diagnosis, I thought of them. Somehow, I wasn’t worried that I would die, or even that it would be hard for me to manage the side effects of treatment.
I was worried that they would have to watch me manage, that they would remember me sick, that they had to miss out on things because of my cancer, and I didn’t want that. I didn’t hide the fact that I had cancer from them, but I wanted for their little lives to feel as normal as possible during that time. I tolerated chemo very well, and apart from my bald head and my daily nap, my interactions with them remained pretty constant. I was so grateful for that. (Though that was the year that my kindergartener filled out the Mother’s Day form about me and said that my hobby was napping ...)