Cancer Club

Sunday, I spent the afternoon with some wonderful people. People who understand the whole meaning of 'my kid has cancer'.

It was nice to hear that my family isn't the only one that deeply appreciates but at the same time has suggestions and criticisms about the way our medical system and our society treat our families. This isn't a disease that goes away when the initial testing and treatment is done. Sometimes the fight goes on for years and years.

When we're away from work, we aren't shopping or enjoying good food or relaxing. We're probably driving or sitting in a waiting room on fairly uncomfortable chairs or camped out beside a hospital bed and a cranky child who wants to move around and can't. Maybe we're sipping coffee from a paper cup (and, surprisingly, hospital coffee isn't too shabby these days), and trying to get the poor kid to eat something she doesn't want (but, honey, if you don't eat the jello, you can't have toast tomorrow morning--kids don't get that logic, because they want TOAST, right NOW).

It was comforting and amazing to hear the stories of the incredible caring and support we have all received from hospital staff (and these are wonderful people, doing a job that must tear them apart), and some of the bureaucracy and budget issues that make things more difficult for them and us.

Most of all, it was sitting in a room with people I would otherwise never have met, and feeling that in a deep and overwhelming part of all our lives we have so much in common. Now I know why people go to support groups.

Cheers.