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Friday, February 22, 2013

Cancer Sucks

It has been a flurry of activity the past week here. For once- none of it revolved directly around autism.  I've often wondered what God's plan was. Why did I have autistic children? Why me?

I recently had a personal epiphany after 5 days of biopsies, surgeons, oncologists, genetic counselors, and cancer care coordinators. I realized that over 20 years I have developed valuable skills raising my special children that will be hopefully be helpful as I help my husband's family cope with their mother's diagnosis of breast cancer.

Aside from having a very flexible work schedule, and the convenience of his parents living around the block, I have a degree of separation. She isn't the mother I've had all my life, I've simply had the pleasure of having her in my life for the last 26 years.   She is truly a gem of a woman.

I am the daughter-in-law. Not the mother this time. I remind myself of the differential daily. It gives me a level of comfort and apprehension. I want to be supportive and useful beyond running errands and cleaning.  I want to be at every appointment, treatment session, meeting. I want to be the pillar of strength my Mother-in-law was for me back in 1997 when we told her about about her grandson's autism. I don't want to get in the way.  I desperately want to be helpful, considerate, and available to my husband and his family.

When we were going through the discovery years of autism, knowledge was valuable but hard to come by.  Every decision seemed reactionary and not preventive.  We never could anticipate what quirk, habit, or problem was around the corner.   Once it presented itself, we made corrections.  You had the basic generic diagnosis of autism, but every day we created our own definition of what autism was in our household.

Cancer is very similar.  Knowledge is power but not specific enough to guarantee a positive outcome.  You try something and react with medicine and treatments if problems arrise.  You can't predict anything.  You have the generic diagnosis of cancer, but what happens next varied by each individual.

In "autismland" we had specialists, therapists, friends, books, and medications to help.  We learned as we moved forward- what worked, and what didn't work. 

In "cancerland" we have specialists, therapists, friends, books, medications and surgeries (when possible).  We turn to the specialist with their statistics and trials- and pray we are on the right path.

The only difference between Autism and Cancer is that the latter can be....fatal. 

Cancer mirrors Autism in ways I've never anticipated.  Each person has a different presentation, prognosis, treatment, and reaction.  Each person has a different level of acceptance, disposition, outlook, and hope- much like autism.  This applies to the patient and the family.

My mother-in-law makes Pollyanna look like Lurch from the Addams Family!  She could find the good in an axe murder, a hurricane, or an earthquake.  She finds the sunny side to almost any situation and she will support you until you finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.  She makes the world brighter and happier to be in.  She fits every cliche' about looking on the bright side- and sometimes it drives me nuts!

I have two wonderful sister-in-laws.  They both live in Florida.  Mercifully, they were both able to visit this week and be with their mother and father.  They are both fun and loving people.  It is a thrill to sit at the table with them all as they laugh, tell stories, and share their lives.  I hope to be a person they can come to if they have questions they don't want to ask their parents.  I want to be their rock of knowledge and an extension of their love towards their mother. 

Over the years I have learned to challenge experts when I feel it is necessary.  I've mastered the art of thinking 5 steps ahead.  Positive or negative- I try to be ready for every possibility.  I've discovered the confidence to ask questions in spite of the fear of hearing a disheartening answer.  I plow into hard situations like a bull- if you can't help me- get out of my way. 

The internet has made information more available. I find that if you look at 12 different sites you will find 27 different theories or suggestions.  It is that way for autism and cancer. Both are a kind of crap shoot.

My children handled to news of their grandmother very well.  Actually, we've only told Kelsey and Michael.  We won't have to tell Andy until Grandma starts to loose her hair from chemo.  I'm anticipating the first thing out of his mouth will be something like "Grandma, what happened to your hair/eyebrows." 

Michael addressed the elephant in the room the first time he saw his Grandmother in person after we had told him the news.  "Well Grandma, I know you are going to be healthy again, but you are going to look really weird without hair."

We have a long road ahead with Grandma's diagnosis.  She has always been our pillar of positivity and optimism.  As with any family, this type of situation shakes everyone to the core.  I feel the urgent need to be the first to stand back up and offer support to everyone else.  Much like my mother-in-law did for me all those years ago. 

Autism has taught me a valuable lesson...how to be a pillar. 

I now have the answer to "Why me?" 

The answer is: "Because someday you will have to understand 'Why her?' and help them all."

Cancer sucks...

 

2 comments:

  1. Oh Amy! Hugs and prayers to you and your family. Cancer sucks is right, but they are lucky to have you. Your luck seems to be MIA at the moment but hopefully you know you have cyber friends for venting. Keep us posted!

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  2. Thank you Julie! We find the humor where we can, luck has got to follow soon enough! Venting and telling is so theraputic...albeit- a bit depressing for the reader. We will move forward. Looking backwards doesn't do any good! Feeling the cyber love!!!

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