Am I really going to blog?: Feeling helpless

Saturday, January 31, 2009

Feeling helpless

My heart aches for Mason's family. They are truly a wonderful bunch of people. Mason & Trey are polite, wonderful little men. I wish that there was something I could do to be helpful. They are in a miserable place. Please continue you prayers for comfort & strength for this family.

I went to see Mason today. I hope that I was not too much of an imposition on the family and that I did not over-stay my welcome. It was in a strange way comforting to be back "home" where I lived for essentially 2 years. I got to see some people who had become family but I had not seen in 3 months. I don't want to come off sounding selfish, but the hardest part for me was walking into Mason's room. It is the very room where Cameron died. Only a nurse was in there when I arrived so I was able to take a moment for composure before Mason & his family arrived.

I learned 2 things about myself today 1) I am ok. and 2) I'm better at taking care of other people than I am myself.

2 comments:

AnonymousFebruary 1, 2009 at 10:57 AM
Lori,
I love the line at the top of your blog. "You don't know how strong you are, until being strong is the only choice you have." That is soooo true. I never thought I would have been able to handle what I have with Tyler, and yet during it, I never thought about it. I just did it, cause there was no other choice. And now I look at you and too many others, and think how do you do it? God truly only gives us what we can handle. Some times I have wished God did not make us so capable!! But we are, and Samantha needs you. And one day your family will reunite forever and ever!
You are in our prayers.
Kathy Alfriend
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Gina SampsonFebruary 1, 2009 at 5:56 PM
Lori, I am overwhelmed in realizing how many friends you are supporting that are going through the cancer issues. I think it is great that Childrens provides a "family" for people that are all in the same boat. Those who have been there can help in a way no one else can. I am sure they enjoyed and appreciate your vist.

I think you are very brave to go for a visit. I know people who have lost loved ones in nursing homes that are friends with other patients there and do not go back to visit because it is too hard. I think most people agree with me in that kids in pain is much harder to see and think about than the elderly.

Your grace and strength continue to be an inspiration to me. You and your family are in my prayers daily as well as Trey and Mason.
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I HOPE....

I hope you never have to hear the words, 'Your child has cancer.'

I hope you never have to hear, 'The prognosis is not good.'

I hope you never have to prepare to undergo radiation or chemotherapy, have a port surgically inserted into their chest, be connected to IV poles. Look at you with fear in their eyes and say, 'Don't worry Mommy, everything will be okay.'

I hope you never have to hold your child as they vomit green bile.

I hope you never have to feed them ice chips for lunch.

I hope you never have to watch the 'cure' you pray for slowly take away their identity, as they lose their hair, become skeletal, swell up from steroids, develop severe acne, become barely or unable to walk or move, and look at you with hope in their eyes and say,'It's going to be okay, Mommy.'

I hope that you never have to stay in the hospital for weeks, months, or years at a time, where there is no privacy, sleeping on a slab, with your face to the wall, where you cry in muffled silence.

I hope you never have to see a mother, alone, huddled, in a dark hospital corridor...crying quietly, after just being told, 'There is nothing more we can do.'

I hope you never have to watch a family wander aimlessly, minutes after their child's body has been removed.

I hope you never have to use every bit of energy you have left, with all of this going on around you to remain positive, and the feelings of guilt, sorrow, hope and fear, overwhelm you.

I hope you never have to see a child's head bolted to the table as they receive radiation.

I hope you never have to take your child home (grateful but so afraid) in a wheelchair because the chemo and radiation has damaged their muscles, 35 pounds lighter, pale, bald, and scarred. And they look at you with faith in their eyes and say, 'It's going to be okay Mommy.'

I hope you never have to face the few friends that have stuck beside you and hear them say, 'Thank God that is over with,'...because you know it never will be. Your life becomes a whirl of doctors, blood tests and MRI's and you try to get your life back to 'normal'. While living in mind-numbing fear that any one of those tests could result in hearing the dreaded words...'The cancer has returned' or 'The tumor is growing.' And your friends become even fewer.

I hope you never have to experience any of these things... Because...only then...Will you understand...

(author unknown)