Tonight's picture was taken in January of 2009. That day Mattie had a visit from his "girlfriend," Charlotte and from our friend's daughters, Louise and Meredith (who were in high school, and befriended Mattie). Look at Mattie's expression. Basically what he was showing us was his clever left leg. The leg we affectionally called, "Curious George." It got that name because it was the only limb not operated on and the leg and foot worked as well as an arm and hand!
Quote of the day: Today's coronavirus update from Johns Hopkins.
- Number of people diagnosed with the virus: 25,874,892
- Number of people who died from the virus: 435,452
I was listening to a podcast on childhood cancer today and the speaker mentioned that George W. Bush's sister died from childhood cancer. I am not sure why I never heard about this before, as I try to know about all leaders and public figures touched by childhood cancer. So naturally this led me to do an internet search and I came across an article entitled, "Good-bye to Robin." Robin was only three years old when she was diagnosed with leukemia (1953). At that time her brother, George W. Bush, was only six years old. The author of the article did an interview with Barbara Bush to discuss the death of her three year old daughter.
Here are some of the highlights that caught my attention (article excerpts are indented and my comments are underneath them)...........
"The doctor told us, 'You don't do anything.' Then she gave us the best advice anyone could have given, which of course we didn't take. She said, 'Number one, don't tell anyone. Number two, don't treat her. You should take her home, make life as easy as possible for her, and in three weeks' time, she'll be gone.'"
In the 1950s, doctors advised family members NOT to tell their loved ones that they were dying. I am not sure the reasoning here makes any sense frankly, especially when it is quite evident to me that adults and CHILDREN know when they feel physically ill and that something is very wrong. In addition, what is striking here is the doctor never thought about the emotional impact on Robin's parents after hearing that their daughter was dying. No insight about the fact that the parents needed to tell others, because they needed support.
"I remember asking the doctor why this was happening to our little girl, this perfectly beautiful creature. And the doctor said, 'You have to realize that every well person is a miracle. It takes billions of cells to make up a person. And all it takes is one cell to be bad to destroy a whole person.' So I came to see that the people who are sitting around alive are the miracles."
Though the doctor is most likely providing a very truthful statement, all I can say is...... honestly!? Does hearing what he said make the blow of hearing your child has cancer any easier? Do we really care to hear about all the walking MIRALCES around us when your child has cancer?
"We had both been around the hospital for so long that around eight months after her death, we decided to have checkups because we both thought we'd caught something. And of course we didn't have anything, thank heavens. But when you've been around sick people for so long and this pain is there, you being to think you might be physically ill."
I absolutely relate to Barbara Bush's sentiments! I saw it within myself, that I worried constantly about being ill after Mattie died. Unfortunately research does indicate that intense caregiving leads to physical illnesses. In my case, I had several health scares since Mattie died. All of which were legitimate and not in my head.
"I hadn't cried at all when Robin was alive, but after she died, I felt I could cry forever. George had a much harder time when she was sick. He was just killing himself, while I was very strong. That's the way a good marriage works. Had I cried a lot, he wouldn't have. But then things reversed after she died. George seemed to accept it better."
It is a very revealing comment about parents managing a child's diagnosis. I absolutely agree that as parents, Peter and I knew we had to be strong for Mattie. Rarely did Peter or I lose it emotionally while Mattie was undergoing treatment. We may have had our moments (never in front of Mattie), but we were solid. Once Mattie died, that is when Peter and I needed different things. We expressed grief differently, and it would have been very easy at that point to grow apart. But the key with any loss is to remember that we all cope with loss differently. It is okay if one of us was happy, while the other was crying. It was not a reflection on us individually or collectively. That insight, got Peter and I through the beginning journey of grief.
"I used to spend a quiet day every year on the anniversary of her death. I was so sanctimonious about it. But in recent years I've noticed that October eleventh goes by without my noticing it. I think that's good. Now it's easy."
This comment struck me. I still am not sure how to react to it, maybe because for me September 8th comes around each year and I darn well know what happened on that date in 2009! It is a date I won't ever forget, and I know myself. If for some reason I did forget it, I would feel terribly guilty and disgusted. For me September 8th is NOT easy and I think that is "good."
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