One strange aftereffect of radiation is that periodically I feel a little zap in the area that was radiated. The zap must be a very slow reacting cell just getting around to realizing that it was radiated. This zap feels like a very sharp needle poking from the inside. This is what a shock collar must feel like, or a shock bra.
Riley is continually dealing with zaps too. I am appalled and disgusted with some of her "friends." Just yesterday, Riley was talking with one of her "friends" about how sad she feels for a classmate who has a seriously ill parent, and that she can relate to some of her feelings. This "friend's'" sharp response back was, "At least your mom's cancer wasn't as bad" as this other person's illness. What the #@!%! I didn't know about the rating scale for life-threatening illnesses. She went on to inform Riley that "Everyone is getting tired of you dealing with your mom's cancer." If this girl's statement is true, then it explains a couple of things: 1. Teenage girls can be the most heartless, cruel, self-centered and insensitive human beings. 2. When Roo has a bad day at school, it really is a bad day. Wouldn't it be funny if every time girls say something mean that they would automatically get zapped by their bras? I envision high schools all across America with girls jumping in the halls.
If her group of "friends" are tired of watching Roo deal with my cancer, wouldn't they think that she might be tired of living with it? During these past 9 months of hell, it would have been nice if one of her peers took the time to ask her how she was doing? Have we forgotten to teach our children about compassion? Or, are they totally tuned out to their parents? Do they not pay attention during whatever Sunday service, youth group, CCD, etc they attend? I no longer give teenagers a break by saying they wouldn't notice a friend in need because they are so out of it; these same girls can replay every single detail of the last Glee episode - who was mean to whom, who's feelings were hurt, who needed a hug, etc. Oops...sorry, speaking of Sunday service, I just got a little preachy.
Unless you have walked in Riley and Molly's shoes, no one can even begin to know what they have endured this year. I cannot imagine what it would feel like to wonder, as a young girl, if your mom is going to die, and when. Is she going to be there for my graduation? Is she going to be there for my birthday? Is she going to be there for Christmas? Is she going to be there when I get married? Who is going to take care of Dad, my sister and me?
Today I started crying over something inconsequential. Just seeing my tears freaks out the girls, especially Riley. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, they read more into the tears than actually exists. Riley often thinks I am hiding something from her regarding my cancer. The tears reinforces these thoughts. The girls and I were talking a few days ago, and one of them said, "I cannot go through another year like this." Because I was so "out of it" much of the year, I asked them how hard was this year for them. They both responded that it was an "impossible" year. For some strange reason, everyone forgets about the children of the person with cancer. They become the shadow behind the cancer patient. Early in this cancer dance, when asked what can be done for me, I often said, "forget about me, it's the girls that will need the most help." This is one of the few times when my hindsight mirrored my foresight.
I keep beating myself up about the tears or bad moments. I feel that I need to hold myself together better. Fortunately, I have my mom and Chubba to remind me that I have had a very tough year. Still, I need more laughs and less tears. After all...laughter is the best medicine!
Whacky thought for the day...
Why is it that people who speak the world "like" every fourth word can text or facebook without writing the word "like" over and over? Isn't is strange that facebook has become both a noun and a verb?