Dear Cancer,

I will never love you. You will never be my friend. You have taken my beautiful life and ripped it into shreds. I have watched you hurt my child over and over again. You have taken his beautiful strong body and tried to weaken it, his bright blue eyes and tried to dim them, his fierce spirit and tried to kill it. I have watched the tears he has cried, the pain he has felt, and the sadness you have brought. I have watched the way you have taken away our time together as a family, how you have tried to break us, how you have tried to rip us apart.

Do you see me? Do you see the pain in my eyes, the thousands of tears I have cried, the fear on my face? Do you know what it is like to have your worst nightmare come true and to not have any control over the outcome? What it’s like to watch the people around you be scared and feel your pain too? To watch them as they either choose to stay in your life or run the other way? The lessons you are teaching me are insightful indeed, but I would rather have learned them by being educated on Childhood Cancer. Not because you were going to put my baby through this.

Now, I sit and wait and fight. I have no choice but to take the lessons along the way with dignity and grace. To find the beauty in the ugliest days. You want to break me, but you won’t. You want to take my child, but you can’t. I will stop at nothing to destroy you and all you have done to our family. I will cry my tears in the shower and you may knock me down, but I will get back up.  The love I have for my son will get him through this; that I can guarantee. Someday, I will show you whose boss. Someday people will start paying attention and cures will be found. Until that day, I swear to you that I will stop at nothing to get rid of you forever.

I feel sad for you because you must not know what it is like to have a mother’s love. A love so deep and pure, that it can conquer anything. A mother’s love will get you through the toughest storms and keep you warm the entire time. A bond so strong, that it can survive the toughest waters. Each time I kiss the top of my baby’s bald head, I think of you and what you have done. Don’t you know that this child is half of me? Our bond is so unbreakable that it is if we are one. So, when you decided to pick him, you picked me as well. And I will stop at nothing to protect him and get him well.

So Cancer… I think it’s time for you to go. You are not welcome here and I hope you are prepared to lose this fight. We are much too strong of a team for you to destroy. You have made your mess and we will happily clean it up. When all is said and done, and you are gone forever we will go back to living our life the way it was before. Except this time, nothing will be taken for granted and the simplest things will now be the most beautiful. We will live everyday knowing how lucky we are to have the most 3 most important things: Love, Health, and Thankfulness. Life will once again be carefree and joyful. And although our wounds are deep; they will heal over time. We will get our life back as a family, before you came here like a Tornado and turned our lives upside down. Each day that passes by, is a day closer to getting rid of you forever. You have burdened our lives only to bring us more beauty than we ever knew existed. I really wish I could say thank you for all of this but I cannot. I am going to say a big Fuck you to you instead. SO FUCK YOU CANCER!!!!!!!!!!! Have a really beautiful night. And no sweet dreams to you.

Sincerely not your biggest fan,

Maya M. Thompson

Rockstar Ronan’s Mom

Hospital Reality sucks

We moved out of the POU (Pedatric Oncology Unit) today and into a different area of the 9th floor. I wish we could have stayed in the POU, but moving to this room is a step up as far as getting us out of here. The POU only has 3 rooms and they are so private that you never see what is going on with the other patients there. The room we are in now, is just like the 2nd floor at PCH. Except worse in a way, because the kids seem so much sicker. I cannot even tell you what I have seen on this floor today, but it is something a mother should never have to see or experience. Let’s just say, it left me in tears most of the day. One room in particular is covered in signs about heaven and God and through the window I saw a mommy feeding her baby ice chips, scooping them into her mouth. The doors here are covered in posters that say things like, “Be strong, Be positive, Be brave.” I have had that empty pit in my stomach the entire day again and it is once again thoughts are filling my head like I can’t believe my baby is in the cancer club now. I have been so positive and upbeat lately… this has kind of thrown me for a loop. On top of it all, Woody left today and I guess I need him around more than my independent self thinks. I was so spoiled by having him here with me the entire time. He gives me so much strength and we are such a great team. We have a roommate too. I think the little girl is about 11 and has bone cancer. That’s what I’ve picked up on so far. There hasn’t been a lot of time for chit chat. Ronan spent the day walking around some more. Still trying to do everything himself. He is so sweet. Everything is always, “Please help me.” or “Please hold my hand.” or “Please get me a drink.” He says please before asking me to do anything in his squeaky little voice. He is hurting so badly but is too proud to tell me.

I met a new friend today named Ed. He is somebody that my friend, Niki, reached out to after hearing his story about his son, Jack, and his battle with Neuroblastoma. Jack fought long and hard, but passed away at age 5. It was hard meeting Ed today, the pain in his eyes was undeniable. From the second I saw him though, I felt as if I had known him forever. He sat with me for about 2 hours and we talked about everything. It was comforting to me and hard at the same time. He said it was therapeutic for him which I was surprised to hear him say, but it says a lot about the type of man he is. He left me with a big bear hug and I had tears in my eyes. Today was a very special day and I feel privileged to have learned about his journey. He has been through hell and back and is still standing; with a smile and a laugh that will melt your heart.

Tonight, is the first night that I am really homesick. I guess it’s true…. my home is wherever Woody is, because I know that is why I am feeling this way. Also, I really miss the twins. My heart ached when I talked to them on the phone tonight. I hate being away from them. We are almost done with New York though… I am going to make the most of these next couple of weeks. So glad Tricia gets here tomorrow. That is going to make me a lot less homesick.

Ronan is doing well and Dr. Angel (La Quaglia) came to visit. Ronan gave him a big smile the entire time he was here. It’s like the two of them share a secret now… they have a special bond. My friend Pam’s husband, Larry, told me that Dr. La Quaglia walks on water to them. I couldn’t agree more.

My Xanex, that I NEVER take, is starting to kick in. Thank god. I was feeling like I was going to jump out of my own skin all day today. I need a night of sleep without nightmares. My dreams are so vivid anymore. The night before Ronan’s surgery, I had a dream all about it. Everything turned out perfectly, Ronan was fine, and then Woody had to share the news with me that he had an inoperable brain tumor. WTF is that all about?? My baby was saved, but my husband was now dying. I remember everything about that dream so vividly, down to every single person that was in it. I woke up thinking it was real. I’ve never had dreams like this in my life. They are so real, it is scary. Sleep is hard now because I wake up so often, because of a nightmare or because of worrying. Hopefully there will come a time when it will once again be peaceful for me again. WIth that said, head hitting the pillow, asap. G’nite, sleep tight, love to you all.

xoxo

Baby’s incision 🙁