Fucking Fuck Fuck Fuck

Whoever thought of the word, “Fuck,” is a fucking genius. I like to throw it around here and there, when it is necessary. I say it in my head, more often than I do out loud. I write it a lot. I get a lot of crap for it which I tend to ignore. You don’t like my language on here, then don’t read my blog. You know what I don’t like? That my son got cancer. And died. That fucking sucks more than anything. When Ronan was diagnosed with cancer, it made sense to have bracelets made so people could show their support. I stayed true to who I was and what I was feeling, which just happened to be, “FUCK YOU CANCER!” It also made me laugh during the darkest of times, like when I was in a hospital for over 21 days straight, with my baby boy. Looking down at that bracelet, often gave me a good chuckle. I’ll admit it, I have a very dark sense of humor. I embrace this. I own this. Fuck you cancer is about as dark as you can get.

I can guarantee you, anyone who is dealing with cancer, no matter what type it is, wants to scream this. Most people don’t have the balls to put on a bracelet, especially when it is pertaining to their child; but why not? Because it is offensive to put the FUCK word out there when your child gets cancer? Says who? I say it is offensive to not stay true to yourself. I say it is offensive that children get cancer and die from it. I say it is offensive that my husband and I had to navigate our way through our son’s treatment, because nobody in the medical world knows exactly how to handle Neuroblastoma. I say it is offensive the way people say the word, Fuck, is offensive whom have obviously never lost a child. It’s a word. Get over it. Childhood Cancer. Now that is something to be offended by.

Your child dying from cancer? Your mom dying from cancer? Your sister dying from cancer? Your husband dying from cancer? Your best friend dying from cancer? Your brother dying from cancer? That is beyond fucked up. It is worthy of the fuck word being used. Stop being so afraid of the word Fuck. Embrace it. Saying the words “Fuck you cancer,” is much more satisfying than screaming, “Gosh darn you cancer! You killed my son!” Trust me on that one. There are bigger things in life to be afraid of. There are bigger things in life, to be offended by. If you are offended by the word, Fuck, it tells me that you are living your life in such a bubble, that you have to make up things to get upset about. It is absolutely ridiculous.

I made a nice version of the bracelets too. I don’t wear it, but my kids do. I only let them wear the Fuck You Cancer bracelets, on special occasions. Oh no. Are you offended because my 8 year olds know that word? I am offended that they had to watch their brother, die. I am offended by the fact that my 8 year sat with his little bro, 2 days before he died, and asked me why he was talking so sleepy and wanted to know when would he wake up, so they could play. I am offended that I had to sit there, look my child in the eyes, and tell him that he wasn’t going wake up and play again because he was going to be getting sleepier and sleepier. That really fucking offends me.

So, to all of you fucking fuck word haters out there. YOU OFFEND ME. CANCER OFFENDS ME. I know what it means to live a life and to have real things to be offended by. If you are going to let a word get you all hot and bothered; then you need to re examine what is really important in life. You need to re examine what it means to truly be upset by something. Because it is not worth it, to get so upset over a word. You don’t like the word? Word to your mother. I get it. You don’t like it, then don’t use it. But to get upset over somebody else using it, is just obscene.

I personally think the word, is awesome. Did you know that it is the only word in the English language that can grammatically complete, and stand alone in a sentence? Ex: Fuck, fucking fuckers fucked. It can be used as an adjective, adverb, adverb enhancing an adjective, a noun, as a part of a word, ex: one of my favs:::: absofuckinglutely, and as almost every world in a sentence, fuck the fucking fuckers. Bloody Brilliant!

You know what else I would like you to know?? Don’t judge a book by its cover. If you know me, in real life, you know that I am a classy broad. I don’t run around screaming this word just to hear myself say it. I am quiet, reserved, serious, and shy… until I am comfortable enough with you to show you the real me. That’s when the real fun begins. My truth is, my son got cancer and all rules flew out the window. If I want to have tee-shirts made that say “Fuck Cancer,” or bracelets made that say, “Fuck you Cancer,” that is my right, as a human being. That is my right, and who are you to say I shouldn’t be able to say what I want to scream at cancer everyday? The fucking cancer police?

Like I said, if you don’t like it, fine. I don’t really get that, but whatever. But don’t try to silence me. Don’t sit back and judge me. You haven’t walked a second in my shoes. It’s time to go and find a new hobby. One that is more offensive than the F word. Maybe you could get fired up about all the babies who sit in the hospital, with cancer, who don’t have any parents to hold them, because they have to work all day and night. Maybe you could be offended about all the babies who get cancer and die. Maybe you could be offended by parents like my husband and myself, who spent our lives doing everything right, only to have our precious son, die of cancer. Trust me. That is way more offensive than the F word could ever be.

Or maybe it’s time to let your guard down and figure out what’s the REAL reason, you are so offended by that word. Because it’s not lady like? Neither is sitting in a pool of blood because your child’s platelets are so low that you can’t get his bloody nose to stop. Neither is not being able to shower for 3 days because you cannot bear to leave your child’s side. Neither is screaming the FUCK word because you were just told that your child’s cancer is spreading and there is nothing more that anyone can do. Fuck ladylike. I’ll stop using the word, FUCK, when Childhood Cancer no longer exists. Until then, the FUCKING FUCKWAD can FUCKING FUCK OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Actually, I changed my mind. I won’t ever stop using this word because Cancer killed my son. So unless you have a magic, purple fucking wand that can bring him back, I will be screaming this word until the day I die.

To all my lovelies. I love you all. Thank you for being so open-minded and not being offended by my truth. Sweet dreams. G’nite my little Ro baby. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe.


If you are still offended after this picture, then you have serious issues and can fuck off in the nicest way possible.

Meet Dr. JoRo

Dear Lovelies,

I am blessed. In many ways even after all of this. It’s hard for me to remember sometimes, because I have a lot of anger, sadness, guilt, and Inferno Fuckwad Bob that seems to consume me. I try to remember all the things I do have, things that so many people don’t like an amazing husband, my beautiful twins, family, friends, a house, food, and love. And I had the privilege of being Ronan’s mama. This does not make up for losing my Ronan, to Cancer. Living this life without him is Hell. Even with all the blessings I mentioned above. I’m not sure why I’m still here. It would have been so easy to take the easy way out and just end my life. I think about it a lot. But that’s the thing; I think about it. I think about what that would do to the lives of all my blessings above. It would also mean that I didn’t do the job that I promised Ronan I would do. I cannot let him down. I won’t let him down, no matter how hard this life is now.

I spent the first few months after losing Ro, in a hole. We went to the beach to get away from things but the funny thing is, you cannot escape death, no matter how hard you try. Especially when it is your child. I was convinced I was going to die. I don’t know if you can overdose on Ambien… but there were many nights that I could have cared less if I did. I would fall asleep and pray that I never woke up. I’m sure that I will have nights like this, here and there, for the rest of my life, but I hope they become less and less.

I came back to Phoenix, worse off than when I left. I remember just being in a fog. One day, I was in bed. The boys were at school. I remember making a plan about how I was going to end my life. I didn’t care about anyone or anything. I sat with my plan. It was a good one. I had a moment of clarity wash over me and I remember thinking that nobody could help me, that nobody could save me and it clicked that I really didn’t want to die. I thought of Woody. Liam. Quinn. And Ronan. I googled something, because I knew I needed help. Serious help because things were not going well. I have never felt so helpless in my life. Surely someone must be out there, who can help me. I googled a bunch of random stuff about losing a child. In one of my searches, the MISS Foundation popped up. I thought to myself, I think I remember a couple of people talking about the MISS Foundation….. let’s see what kind of bullshit this is. I clicked on it. Dr. Jo’s face popped up. She’s pretty, I thought to myself. I didn’t read a thing about her. I found her email and sent her something that I’m sure didn’t even make much sense. I think I said something like, “My name is Maya Thompson. I’m not sure if I have an appointment with you, because everyone else is running around, trying to save me. My 3-year-old son just died of Cancer. I need help.”

Within a couple of hours, Dr. Jo responded back that I did not have an appointment with her, but she would see me. And that she was so sorry about Ronan.

We arranged a time to meet. I drove out to see her about a week later. I didn’t have much hope, that anyone could help me at this point, but I was willing to take a chance. I don’t really remember much about our time together, except that it was really, really long. I think around 3 hours long. I cried a lot. I’m sure a lot of what I said, didn’t make much sense. She wrote down a lot of notes. I got up, after our session ended and she walked me out to the lobby. I pulled out my credit card. I was expecting to pay a hefty chuck of change. Dr. Jo told me that they didn’t accept payments, that they ran solely off of donations. It took me a minute to process this. I told her I felt awful about leaving there without paying her anything. She just smiled and said that they were a Non-Profit 501 (C)3. I left there feeling so guilty about not paying this lady who just spent 3 hours with me.

I went home and talked to Woody about making a donation to her Foundation. Of course we would he said. I saw Dr. Jo that next week. By the second session with her, I started to have a little hope again. Hope that somebody might actually understand kind of what I am going through. Hope that somebody could actually help me, save myself. I settled into a consistent routine of seeing Dr. Joanne. I started to think that maybe, I wasn’t really crazy. I started to think that maybe, I was just a mom who had just lost the most precious thing on earth to her and all the acts of “insanity,” were justifiable. Dr. Jo accepted me and was one of few people in my life who trusted me from the beginning. She was able to explain things to me, that nobody else could. She had the research to back it up. But the thing that I loved the most, is that she took me, broken, shattered me… and slowly started to put me back together. She knows I will never be whole again. But she believes in me and the love that I have for Ronan. She never tells me things like, “Please don’t do anything crazy.” “It’s time to get over this.” “You have other children, you have to live for them.”

She yells with anger for me when I can’t. She tells me that this is the most fucked up thing on earth, losing a child. That there is NO reason for it. She tells me she knows I wish it would have been me that died, therefore she does too. She is real. She is honest. She is unbelievably smart. She is soulful. She is kind. She is tortured. She is deep. She is funny. She is humble. She is saving my life. I’m not exaggerating when I say that. If not for her, that little plan of mine may have happened. She is not Dr. Cacciatore anymore. You know the funny thing is, she never really was. I had the urge to call her Dr. Jo from the beginning. You’ll love this. The JoRo nickname that I gave her…. well she texted me the other day to tell me that her middle name is Rose. Joanne Rose. Jo Ro. Are you fucking kidding me. Talk about a sign. A sign from Ronan. I know it was him that led me to her. I know this from the deepest part of my soul. He knew she was going to be the one to help me. She is the one helping me. She is the one, saving me by helping me save myself. Here is a little more about Dr. Jo, below……
Dr. Joanne Cacciatore is the founder of the MISS Foundation and she is currently a professor at Arizona State University. Her area of expertise is traumatic death, specifically child death, and she is an acclaimed public speaker on this topic.

Dr. Cacciatore also specializes in counseling those affected by traumatic death and she is a Diplomate in the American Psychotherapy Association. Her therapeutic interventions include Mindfulness Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, Narrative Therapy, Dialectical Behavioral Therapy, Logotherapy, and various other therapies, such as Repeated Exposure Therapy, to manage Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).

As an advocate of “green” mental health care after a traumatic experience, she is a member of the American Psychotherapy Association, the Association for Contemplative Mind in Higher Education, the International Society for Traumatic Stress Studies, and the National Center for Crisis Management. She spearheaded and directs the graduate Certificate in Trauma and Bereavement program at ASU.

Her research has been published in peer reviewed journals such as The Lancet, Birth, Death Studies, Omega Journal of Death and Dying, Social Work, Social Work and Healthcare, and Families in Society.

Dr. Cacciatore received her Doctorate from the University of Nebraska-Lincoln and her Masters degree and Bachelor’s degree in psychology from Arizona State University. Her work has been featured in major media sources such as People and Newsweek magazines, the New York Times, Boston Globe, CNN, National Public Radio, and the Los Angeles Times.

She received the prestigious Hon Kachina Award in 2007.

Her greatest accomplishment, however, is that she is a mother to five children, now mostly grown. She notes “four who walk and one who soars”.

On a personal note, she has been a vegetarian since 1976 and enjoys barefoot hiking, reading, surfing, and rock climbing.

Her life changed profoundly in 1994 when her daughter, Cheyenne, died.

Here is where you all come in. The MISS Foundation is growing rapidly. Which is sad because it means kids die. Yup. I know first hand. They do, it can happen to anyone of you(although I pray to RO that it never does), and it’s time that people start to stop hiding it like a dirty little secret. They die. Parents need help to get through this. Nobody should be expected to survive this on their own, the way Dr. Jo was. The MISS Foundation, understands this, like nobody else. Dr. Jo understands this, like nobody else. The MISS Foundation, needs help from a lot of you lovely blog readers, who so desprately want to help me. You can help me, by helping Dr. Jo. Kathy Sandler, the Director of MISS sent me a list of all the ways they need help. See below.

Board and or Task Force Needs:

  • Bankers/Investment Professionals – with contacts in the financial community and know individuals who are looking for a meaningful place to put their donation dollars
    • Also to help design a MISS Foundation Endowment Program
  • Business/Corporate – leaders in the community who are also well connected in the community and wish to link their business in mission driven causes
  • Fundraising/Development – individuals who have experience in fundraising and can help with devising our fundraising plan on either short term basis, or someone for the Board who would be willing to lead the Fund Development Committee and manage this
  • Government or legislative official – for board and task force who can help with all of our legislative initiatives
  • Healthcare & Hospital Executives (Either Administration or Dr/Nurse) – would be able to facilitate formal collaborative care relationships so that MISS would be reimbursed for the referrals received from these institutions
  • Insurance Professionals/Executives – to facilitate relationships with Insurance companies in order to provide grief/bereavement support as a standard
  • Marketing/Public Relations Professionals – individuals for board & task force and also individuals to help on a day to day basis with social marketing, press releases, overall marketing and branding
  • Philanthropists – socially conscious individuals who would again
  • IT – individual connected in the technology community
  • Volunteers – need a Receptionist/Exec Assistant 5 days a week – 8am – 4pm
Kathy Sandler, MSW
Executive Director
MISS Foundation
office: 602-279-MISS (6477)
Thank you, lovelies, for anything you can do. If you are looking to start working on making yourself a better person, because you feel like something is missing…. I can guarantee this is a great start. This is something that I believe in with my heart in soul. I know Ronan does too.
Sweet dreams. Love you all.