Quote of the day: "Wise sayings often fall on barren ground, but a kind word is never thrown away.” ~ Sir Arthur Helps
Before I tell you about our day, I first want to thank you for remembering my birthday and for sending me e-mails, electronic cards, and gifts. That was very thoughtful of you because as many of you can imagine my birthday has a different kind of significance for me after Mattie was diagnosed with cancer on July 23, 2008. I thank all of you for your amazing support throughout this complicated journey, and if I could ask you to do one thing for me today, it would be to visit Mattie's LIVESTRONG dedication page and his Cancerversary page and sign them! Thanks for your consideration!
This morning neither Mattie or I could get up. We were both so tired. I was awake earlier in the morning, but I was so exhausted and figuring it was my birthday, I decided to go back to sleep. That was my gift to myself. However, before I made this decision, you should have seen the debates I had in my head about whether I should just get up at 8am, or go back to sleep. Finally, after a lot of counterproductive self talk, I voted on sleeping.
Peter's parents came over this morning, and while I was getting dressed, they were playing with Mattie. Mattie decided he wanted to sort coins. So we pulled out bags of quarters that we have, and he and his grandparents started to sort quarters by State. What they discovered was that they had quarters for every State except Delaware and California. I thought this was a fun, but productive activity. It gave Mattie the chance to learn about different States in our Country, and to see the design on the back of the coin, which pictures a significant symbol for the State it represents. When I came downstairs today, everyone sang Happy Birthday to me, and Mattie gave me a big hug, which was lovely. In fact, last night, when Mattie and I took a stroll outside before he want to bed, he told me that he missed me while I was at the conference, and how much he loved me. This was totally unsolicited, which made it very special, and he couldn't have given me a better gift. Certainly presents are wonderful to receive on one's birthday, but for me, love and friendship demonstrated through words and action are what means the most to me. With that in mind, putting Mattie's illness aside, I am a very lucky person. I have discovered friendships this year that have blown me away, and through Mattie's suffering, I have received gifts that are far too meaningful to put a value on.
Mattie's buddy, Louise (a SSSAS recent graduate) came over today to take a picture with Mattie before she heads off to college soon. Louise brought Mattie a wonderful gift, a compass. It came in a beautiful nautical box, and Mattie was very intrigued by the compass. Especially since it reminds him of his love for boats. We will miss Louise as she heads off to Rice University in Texas, but we look forward to seeing her when she returns home from school breaks. Notice in the picture (though it is hard to see with the bright sunshine) that both Louise and Mattie are holding Rice sweatshirts, and Mattie is even holding an owl figurine in his hand (Rice's mascot). A very cute picture as Louise begins her next developmental journey. I have been giving many topics which I was exposed to at the conference a great deal of thought. I am still processing all the things that were discussed, but one conclusion I have come to is that I need to begin to develop a new mindset. A mindset of healing. I have to be open to this, embrace it, and think positively. If I can't do this, this will only hurt Mattie. After hearing at the conference how much our own emotions impact others in our life, I began thinking about how I need to examine my fears and attitude (fears which I don't outwardly express to Mattie, yet these thoughts are constantly part of my internal dialogue), so that Mattie has the best possible chance at recovery. I am not saying that my actions are preventing Mattie's recovery, but I do freely admit that I am scared, and don't want my fears in any way to translate down into his thoughts and attitude. I am frightened to accept the fact that Mattie is cancer free at the moment, because I am always in alert mode and ready for the next shoe to drop. This is a very stressful way of living I assure you. In fact, I have yet to unpack our hospital luggage, and Peter's car is still loaded with all of our hospital supplies. I am not sure why I haven't dealt with these things. Maybe I haven't because to me I remain in a fighting mode, and ready to mobilize at any given moment if Mattie should become sick. These are issues I need to work through, but for now I can't come to unpack anything because I feel so uncertain, not knowing what will happen, and not sure I can allow myself to be lulled into some false sense of complacency about Mattie's condition. I guess I just feel if I unpack, I am saying things are normal now, when I know they aren't and may never be. It is almost analogous to losing a loved one. When you lose someone close to you, it is hard to go through his/her clothes, pictures, items, and belongings. In a way, by getting rid of these things, it seems as if you are symbolically removing the person permanently from your life. So it is not unusual therefore for family members to leave rooms and items untouched for a period of time, because this is not something that can be dealt with at the moment. Similarly I feel the same way about Mattie's hospital things. Having them around me and in order provides me great comfort. By unpacking or removing them, it means that I have forgotten or put aside this period in our lives and that I am ready to move on. Well I just can't right now! But as I mentioned I realize I need to work on this and establish a new mind set, for my own peace of mind. Living each day in this wait and see if the cancer comes back purgatory is almost as hellish as living with active cancer treatment.
This afternoon, I had wanted to go out to lunch and for a walk, but Mattie did not want to leave the house. He was very focused on scraping and painting the deck. This is the problem of starting a project of this magnitude with Mattie. He wants to complete it and won't divert his attention from anything else. I admire his conviction and determination, but I so wanted to have a change of scenery since I spend a great deal of time at home! Any case, we had a family lunch together outside on our deck, and one of our neighbors stopped by too, to give us some additional plants to put in our garden. After lunch, Peter, his parents, and Mattie went to Home Depot to pick out paint. There was no way I was going to Home Depot on my birthday, so I stayed home instead. Peter snapped some pictures of Mattie painting this afternoon. Mattie had a good time getting full of paint and getting the job done.
Left: Do you love the way Mattie is painting?
Right: Mattie and Grandma painting.
This evening, I had the wonderful opportunity to celebrate my birthday with several of my Team Mattie supporters. I can't thank Ellen enough for hosting this party at her home. Ellen out did herself. She had a beautiful dining table set up on her deck, with candles, and flowers. It was a scene from a page in a magazine, that is how beautiful it was. Unfortunately it poured tonight and we had to move the party inside. But as I told Ellen, it did not matter where the party was. The location wasn't what mattered, what mattered was the people I was with and the spirit of the evening. I felt bad that Ellen worked so hard to set up everything outside, just to have to relocate everything inside. Being inside was just as delightful though. Ellen cooked us a wonderful dinner, and Ann spoiled me with her chocolate fountain. Thank you Christine for the delicious birthday cake, and I can't thank all the wonderful friends who came, chatted, celebrated my birthday, and surrounded me with gifts. These are amazing women, whose constant support, validation, and concern truly touch my heart. One thing Mattie's illness has provided me with was the gift of many wonderful friendships and the feeling of being part of a community. Tonight, half of the women were from SSSAS (Mattie's school) and the other half were from RCC (Mattie's preschool). It was wonderful to see these communities come together and unite. They made my day very special, and all their efforts will never be forgotten.
Left: A picture of the chocolate fountain. It was a treat for all of us. There is something special about chocolate, it just makes you feel happy and like a kid again. Perhaps this explains the many pounds of chocolate I have consumed this year. It is helping me along my path and search for happiness.
Right: Ellen's husband, Jeff, took a picture of all of us tonight. From left to right in the front row is Mary, Karen, Danelle, Debbie, Ellen, Vicki and Ann, and in the second row is Tamra, Christine, and Carolyn.
When I arrived home tonight, Mattie was still up. However, what concerned me and Peter was that Mattie's left knee was bothering him. Sure this knee could be hurting him for a variety of reasons, however, Peter and I can't shake the feeling that this "variant" that was found in his left knee could really be osteosarcoma. When I hear about pain, I panic! Needless to say, this pain tonight put both of us in a bad place. Not that we need any help. Oh God, how does one live with this constant fear and anxiety? There are nights I go to sleep and wish the next day I would wake up and life would be normal again. Life would be filled with health and happiness, and this nightmare would be just that, a bad dream.
I end tonight's posting with a message from my friend, Charlie. Charlie wrote, "I think you did a great job this week Peter. Those of us who were at the conference saw Vicki busy and involved and clearly she could not have done that without your support at home this week. Mattie was in her thoughts and her comments but she was able to carry on, much as you do daily with your work. Sometimes swapping places gives one a greater appreciation for the other although I know both of you appreciate how much Mattie depends on each of you. Vicki, I know it is hard to understand why people don't say something when they see you; why they seem to be ignoring what is happening with Mattie. It isn't that they don't care, it is that they care too much and don't know what to say. If there are two things in this world that frighten people they are the illness of a child and cancer, when you combine these, people just freeze. They are so fearful of not knowing the "right" thing to say, that they say nothing. We want to be able to say, "I hope he gets well soon" as if this were a broken bone that will mend with no future effects and since we can't, we don't know what to say. We lack the words to say what we really feel; that we grieve with you for the loss of this portion of Mattie's childhood and of your professional life and we recognize that your lives will never be the same as they would have before this happened. I am sure that everyone who read your column and knows you feels this although they may not be in a position to say it. As one of our speakers so eloquently put it, "we lack the I-thou form in English" that could connect us in that intimate way and we are therefore encouraged to be much more distant and formal than we might be otherwise."
1 comment:
“[L]ove and friendship demonstrated through words and action are what means the most to me.”
“I need to begin to develop a new mindset. A mindset of healing. I have to be open to this, embrace it, and think positively.”
Happy Birthday to an amazing woman! Vicki, I have learned so much from you in the short time that I've been reading your blog. Your words are filled with such deep wisdom and they touch those witnessing your journey to the core. Thank you so very much for this.
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