“Mom, are the enemies gone already?”
How I wish, son. As of blog time, my son is home and happy. He’s too happy that everything he asks for, from toasted cheese to a goldfish has been delivered right in front of his doorstep (thank you Gaia of Red Rock Travel Agency) and all he has to do is drink his medicine and wear his mask.
“Mom how am I going to eat mangoes if I have my mask on? Someone has to wear the mask if I’m taking mine off, Mom!”
How diligent. I’ve spoken to his teacher and have tried to map out his home-schooling as well as the househelp’s activities without interrupting Mio’s routine of watching his favorite shows, doing his daily doodles and living life to the fullest.
I watch him like he’s a new born baby now. He’s fragile and he’s precious. Like all children I’m sure. But I had an interview in between hospital duty the other day for a character study based on this blog and the last question I encountered after a series of dramatically provoked questions was, “Are you prepared in case….?”
I quickly answered a firm “no”. It was not an option, I said. With all the goodness, love and support my son has been blessed with, it does not make sense. If for anything, I believe that being stricken with cancer allowed us to gain the things that I prayed for for a long time: humility, patience and love, above all things.
I’ve learned through this child that strength is not measured by your body but by your spirit. That’s what I’m working on and I hope my son grows up to appreciate what he’s going through now. I’ve learned that people are good and can see past pain and destruction. Mio is an opportunity for others to love, be good and be inspired and there is no way that he will not survive cancer. It wasn’t an option especially when I was told he had an 80% chance of remission after a 3-5 year cycle.
The right question to ask is, “Are we prepared to survive HIS cancer?”
Truth be told, my lack of foresight paralyzes me. I have no idea or I vaguely do of how to go about this and get past Mio’s pain when he cries out “Mom! You’re making my feelings owie!”
I will never fully understand his pain and I can’t quite explain it to him either. It is a long road of trials and although the immediate concern is money, my mind is blown away by the outstanding possibilities and miracles we encounter everyday.
Tomorrow is another treatment day and it was as if we just slept overnight outside the hospital. I’m hoping that in time I will be able to recover and survive my lack of trust in nature and let my son go through the course of accepting his role in the world with this disease. But like what I saw in the charm Gaia handed me….
MioCANCERsuvive. So should we.