Before it got bad enough to warrant calls, I had been given my choice of punishment if I got caught sloughing again. Caught being the operative word in that sentence. I was doing well in school, which ultimately made me feel invincible. This also made it easier to make the decision to skip class to go to Einsteins Bagels for a chocolate chip bagel. I justified it as "I already understand that, why sit in class being bored when I can have deliciousness devoured without worrying about calories." I am justify Queen.
On one such outing, I was driving our little red truck on 1900 W., back to school, when a white Camry was spotted coming my way. I instantly knew it was my mom. She looked out her window, I looked out mine, watching each other until we couldn't stretch our necks any further. My heart burned, my stomach felt sick. I was busted! I didn't go back to school. I didn't go live it up knowing that that was my last day of freedom with the little red truck. I had chosen my punishment, I knew what I needed to do. I went straight home.
The drive home was full of shame, doubt, fear, anxiety and yearning. There were many different roads that would have lead to our house, but I felt an almost urgent need to get home quick. I didn't speed, but I pushed the limit as I raced to my punishment. I made it just moments after my mom, walked in and handed her my keys, and with real regret for letting her down, apologized. I felt awful seeing the disappointment in her face as she accepted my keys without a word. I also felt a little relieved to have the discretion out in the open. I needed to accept my punishment and move on. Reflecting on that drive later that day, I found it ironic that I raced to something I knew I wouldn't enjoy. I felt that same irony both yesterday and today.
Since Caden's pre-chemo appointment was later in the afternoon, we decided to leave first thing on Thursday instead of staying overnight in Seattle the night before. We left with enough time to make it, but didn't leave enough wiggle room for too much traffic. I've driven in Seattle enough to know that traffic is unpredictable (that's being kind), so I left enough time for one major hang up. But when we were met with a seriously long traffic jam, I started to get anxiety. I hate being late!! As soon as the roads cleared, I stepped on the gas and made it to my usual driving speed- 5 miles per hour over what is posted. I'm a speed demon, I tell you. I pushed the limit as often as I dared, and passed in-between slower cars like a true Seattle native. Heck, I felt as if I'd grown up in New York with all of my evasive moves! We pulled in to Seattle Children's just moments before his first appointment of the day.
This morning was much the same. We were told yesterday that cancer care was full, so I needed to wait to hear what time to be there. We got the call at 8:00 to come in at 9:00. We got in the car as soon as the call ended, knowing we were headed where many others were. We were "prepared" for the red taillights to meet us at some point, but not as soon as we hit the interstate. Anxiety set in with a crippling intensity. I become a crazed maniac when I'm going to be late. I don't like that about myself, but I'm powerless to stop it. Again, when the roads opened, I was veering between open cars, speeding (as much as you can in rush-hour traffic) and only made it a few minutes late.
Some times in life, we all race to something that we don't want to do. Some times it's a choice that we make. Or a choice of someone else. Sometimes the things we're racing to is like what we raced to today- something that makes him feel like death to keep him from actually experiencing it.
Life is full of many different kinds of races. All with a different course, different runners, and different outcomes. Some we sign up for on our own, some we get entered into against our will. And some, like the 5k that I signed up weeks ago for tonight, we don't end up running because we get to run with someone else in a different race. No matter our race, I hope we can look at those in our path with love, compassion, and excitement. Because someone is fighting the race of their life, a race that will define them forever, and sometimes it's to hard places they don't really want to go.
As Caden lays in his bed feeling sick just one hour after his chemo began, I realize that this race of ours is starting another uphill challenge. We've had a bit of a nausea break, which has been heaven, but makes it a little harder now that he feels so bad. We can't see the finish line, because we know there is just one more hill. But we've donned our running gear once more, the feel of our attire comfortable and known, and we're ready to race. And just like a real race, there will be times of exhaustion where we'll contemplate walking the rest of the way, but we know what is waiting at the end and who is cheering us on along the way. We are supported and can't wait to cross that finish line tired, red-faced, and completely filled with pride and adrenaline to have finished something we never thought we'd ever do!!
This is so interesting, because I've been thinking about Caden all day today being back in the hospital for more chemo. I've been thinking about how unfair it is that it seemed like you guys were done with everything when the tumor was removed and then it was a big blow when you were told there was more chemo that was needed. I kept trying to think of something to compare it to and all that kept coming to mind was a race. Like the kind where you're in high school just running around a track. And it gets long and it gets old and you've already done a ton of laps and just when you think you're finished, that you can slow down and stop racing, you realize you've still got another lap to go. It's got to be so discouraging and frustrating, but you still push through to the finish. You are so inspiring to me and so many others Steph! I know we're all just praying for you all to have the energy and strength to finish that last lap.
ReplyDelete