The good fight

I’m not a crusader. And I’m not a crusader parent. Obviously I was thrust into the previously distant world of childhood cancer, and came to know a lot of things that I wish I didn’t have to know. This kind of thing is so often the catalyst for people to dive head-first into raising awareness and funds, for supporting similar causes, for attending events, for keeping up with news in the field.
I cope with things by… well, ignoring them. I follow some pages on Facebook, I flick through the Chemo Chronicle that CHW sends us, but I find it difficult to go much deeper than that. Maybe because I was so intensely immersed in it only recently. Maybe because the underlying driving force for our family life at the moment is ‘keep the cancer away’. The ever-present unspoken. It doesn’t need to be said. It’s just there. It will always be there. One parent wrote in the CC, “I can imagine myself on Thomas’ wedding day putting my hand on his forehead to check his temperature! It’s just hard not to worry.”
Maybe because I’m lucky enough to be able to ignore it, to be able to call it ‘underlying’. Goodness knows, I know. I know.

By the way, hey, blog. I’m so drained that I’m struggling to finish this. Each word is… being painfully extracted from my brain. I think it’s time to accept that this is just not where my head is at right now, and for the foreseeable future.


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