Talking

The Tuesday that I first took in a quilt to hand stitch the binding, Sue came over to look at it, looked me in the eye and asked, "Is there anything you cannot do?"  I was super honored to hear her say something like that, but immediately blurted out, "Um, I couldn't do what you do!"  At the time it was because of her schooling and knowledge, but now it is because I realize that the hardest part of her job is relaying the bad news.

I hadn't had a time to talk with Caden alone, so after picking them up from school, I asked him to stay in the car with me to go and pick up the other kids.  As soon as Keilie got out, I asked Caden how he was doing.  He gave me his customary response when I ask him about cancer.  "Meh."

The entire way to the Elementary, I was telling him that I know he doesn't usually like to talk much, but that I thought it would be very therapeutic, and that both Randy and I were willing and waiting to talk about it.  As I pulled up to our waiting spot, he asked me one question that I was glad he asked, but wished I didn't have to be the one to answer it.

"What does it mean inoperable?"

I thought he knew.  Randy said that Caden was visibly shaken during their appointment, many times choking back tears.  He must have felt the heaviness of the appointment, but not really understood all that was going on.  So, I had to tell him.  I had to see the realization in his eyes.  I had to see the wheels turning as he tried to think of anything to fix this.

"What about a liver transplant?"

"Caden, this is going to sound very brutal, but it is the truth.  They are not going to give a liver to someone with cancer.  They would want to give it to someone that is healthy, that could live a long life with it.  I would give you half of my liver this very day, if that was the only thing holding us back, but it is not.  The tumor that is in your pelvis is too hard to get.  They do not want to cut open your stomach again, cause you all of that pain, unless they know they can get it all out.  They can't.  So, the miracle that we need is a treatment that will both kill the cancer and eat up those tumors."

"What if we just did a chemo that killed the cancer?"

And so the conversation went.  He kept asking for things that cannot be.  A chemo that would kill the cancer, but leave the tumors.  I couldn't say the words, "You don't want to leave the tumors, because when it comes back, it will continue to fill you up."  Because I truly do not know if we will find something that will both 100% cure him AND eat up the tumors that can never be removed surgically.

When the kids got in the car, all conversation stopped.  Caden was done talking.  He was "himself" the rest of the night.  He jumped on the tramp with his brothers after school.  He helped make dinner, making the meal fun and happy.  While I was at a show with Jamie, he played catch with Tyson.  He chose to "not think about it," which is his customary response.  And it has me thinking:  Isn't that what childhood is all about?  To only think of the things that make you happy?  To only do things that you think are fun, that you want to do?  To not worry too much over money, or food, or shelter, or adult things?  Does it stand to reason that because Caden is dealing with a very "adult" trial, that he should handle it like an adult?  That he should forsake those things that are so "childish?"  If Caden chooses to put it from his mind, to do only those things that are fun while he can, to leave the worry to his parents, I am going to let him.  Who am I to rob him of his last chance at childhood? 

We gave him the option of not going to the Tuesday meeting.  He readily took the offer.  "It's a good thing, cause I have Finals next week."  So, he'll do what he does, as a maturing child, and we'll do what we do, as his parents.  We'll go to that meeting, be told the honest, raw, uncensored truth, and then we'll come back and have a talk with our son.  A delicate balance, an intricate dance.  Because, how do you help prepare a child/ young man to hear the words, "Honey, there is nothing left for them to do."  As a parent, how do you actually speak the words?  Because, gosh dang it, I am not done raising this child!!!!!!!!!