Courage Is Fear That Has Said It's Prayers~Dorothy Bernard

Have you ever seen movies where the main character is standing still and all the people around them are in fast forward, swirling in busyness, while they are frozen in place, unable to comprehend reality? This was me at our first visit to the pediatric oncologist. I was like a functioning alcoholic, I walked into the hospital passing people along the way, carrying my son's diagnosis like a secret I didn't want to get out. I was in survival mode; sign in, paperwork, wait in rainbow colored holding tank, vitals, run-down with nurse, meet and greet with doctor...all the usual requisites for a first time office visit. Except for one key thing...it was an oncology office.

This fact showed up in little places along the way, inspirational posters on the wall declaring courage and positivity, materials with recipes for things to eat when you can't eat, a red, locked box on the wall for discarded chemo needles...although I was growing uncomfortable, I was dealing. Until it was time to go to the front desk and schedule his next appt. As I stood at the desk waiting my turn, children of all differing ages passed by to go into the rooms where they would have chemo administered. I remember thinking that I felt so bad for them and wanted to hug them and make everything all right...and then it hit me, my son is one of those kids, we are in this office for the very same reason.

At that moment, it hit me that this is what our life will be for the next few months, coming and going like we belong there, the unfamiliar becoming familiar. I started to feel anxious and could feel my chest tighten and the tears were threatening to overtake my resolve to be strong and not fall apart. At that moment, I could hear my son laughing in the waiting room, quickly followed by the even louder laugh of my aunt who was with him, as they were playing Pac-Man and cracking up over whatever was happening on the screen.

Courage is a word I tend not to throw around lightly, but my son is the epitome of courage. He is stronger than I could ever pretend to be, he is brave in a way I never would have imagined. Every test, scan, blood work, IV, examination; he just plows through with rarely a complaint. As I stand on the side and shake the urge to grab him and run to a magical place where he isn't being poked, prodded and invaded.

It's always being said that children take their clues from a parent on how to act and feel, but I think I am learning more on how to be courageous from my son than he has ever learned from me.