So many things have changed in these last few years that I don't even know where to start. I look back at my previous posts and I don't even recognize the girl who wrote those anymore. Too much has changed since those posts and the woman that sits here typing this can't ever go back to the girl who didn't know anything. I now know the joy of success. After many long years I finally graduated with my BA in Psychology. It was a day I honestly didn't think would come and I am glad that my husband pushed me to make myself someone worthy of the world. Someone who can contribute. It's ironic in a sense that after all that time I spent in school to avoid working another retail job, I finally found the job I love; in retail. Took me long enough to find it only to have to leave it behind when my life took another crazy turn.
I have two beautiful children who are the yin and yang of health. My daughter is almost never sick. My son is almost never healthy. Okay, that second part is a but of an exaggeration, but Noah has always been my sickly child. Diagnosed with two blood disorders in as many years of life. Hospitalized for Swine flu before he was 60 days old. Various colds multiple times a year. The occasional flu. It almost seemed fitting when days before his 5th birthday, I sat in a doctors office hearing words like hospital admittance. Chemotherapy, Cancer. Noah's cancer story is already so long and he is only 20% of the way through his journey. We are so lucky in many ways. Noah's cancer is very treatable and he has the best cancer to have if you were to ever pick one, but it doesn't make it any easier.
Every day I am thankful that Noah is doing so well, but every day I am angry. I see the little things that cancer has taken from my life and I get angry. I want my life back. I want my happy and healthy son back. I want to see him sitting on the couch curled up with a blanket and not think that something is wrong. I want to see him play and get bruises and not worry that his cancer is returning. I took Noah in to the hairstylist today to get his hair cut for the first time in over 9 months. We have had his head shaved before at the hairstylist, but that was in reaction to him losing his hair. This was the first time that he has had his hair cut because it was getting long and he he wanted it trimmed up.
We sat in the salon and he looked through books for almost 30 minutes while he looked at all the different hairstyles for men and boys. He found a couple of cuts that he liked but then he would look in the mirror and shake his head and keep looking. 30 minutes before he finally found a hairstyle that he liked and the whole time I was beaming from ear to ear because he was finally getting something back that cancer had taken from him. He was pensive and you could see him seriously considering each and every cut he came across. He sat in the chair and didn't move a muscle while the stylist cut his hair and then he asked her if she could make it look like the picture. He was so happy and his happiness was contagious. But underneath all of my happiness, was anger. Why was I happy over a haircut? Why was I happy that he had a choice? It's a simple haircut. People get them all of the time and they don't think anything of it. It is no big deal to so many people. It only mattered because Cancer made it matter. Cancer has taken so much from us, but we are so lucky in many ways. I get happy over a small victory and then I get angry that I was happy over he victory and then I feel guilty that I felt angry and then I give in and feel happy...and the viscous cycle continues
