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Nov. 9th, 2010 12:46 pmWriting
Glad tidings, Faithful Reader(s)! My novel deadline (which one of my editors called "obviously unreasonable" and writer friends have described as "completely insane") has been extended, which means I'll have time for more blog posts! Yaay! I know you're all overjoyed at the news, heh.
It also means I'll actually be able to relax and enjoy this weekend at TusCon 37. Heck, I might even let my hair down a little. All the more reason for you to stop by and say hi, because who doesn't want to see Marcy with her hair down? Heh.
Everything Else
Got a call from the Hem-Onc Clinic yesterday. Don't worry, everything's fine with Max (well, you know, as fine as it's possible to be with an active tumor living in the shadow of your spine). It was actually a call from the social worker about another family whose little 9-month-old boy was just diagnosed with neuroblastoma and who are looking for advice and support from some BTDT parents.
It's not something you think about too much when you're in the midst of treatment -- you're just trying to get through the next round of chemo, the next clinic visit, the next set of scans. You're struggling to come to terms with your "new normal" and what lies beyond is something you don't dwell on, for the sake of your own sanity. You're certainly not viewing your child's cancer diagnosis as an opportunity to help other people somewhere down the road.
But it turns out, that's exactly what it is. Because your child was not the first to get this awful disease, and, sadly, won't be the last. And other parents will inevitably follow in your footsteps -- kicking and screaming, crying, numb. Other parents whose lives you might be able to make a tiny bit easier through the benefit of your own bitter experience. There aren't a lot of positives to being a cancer mom, but making someone else's burden lighter, if only by letting them know they are not alone in this battle? That's definitely one of them.
Glad tidings, Faithful Reader(s)! My novel deadline (which one of my editors called "obviously unreasonable" and writer friends have described as "completely insane") has been extended, which means I'll have time for more blog posts! Yaay! I know you're all overjoyed at the news, heh.
It also means I'll actually be able to relax and enjoy this weekend at TusCon 37. Heck, I might even let my hair down a little. All the more reason for you to stop by and say hi, because who doesn't want to see Marcy with her hair down? Heh.
Everything Else
Got a call from the Hem-Onc Clinic yesterday. Don't worry, everything's fine with Max (well, you know, as fine as it's possible to be with an active tumor living in the shadow of your spine). It was actually a call from the social worker about another family whose little 9-month-old boy was just diagnosed with neuroblastoma and who are looking for advice and support from some BTDT parents.
It's not something you think about too much when you're in the midst of treatment -- you're just trying to get through the next round of chemo, the next clinic visit, the next set of scans. You're struggling to come to terms with your "new normal" and what lies beyond is something you don't dwell on, for the sake of your own sanity. You're certainly not viewing your child's cancer diagnosis as an opportunity to help other people somewhere down the road.
But it turns out, that's exactly what it is. Because your child was not the first to get this awful disease, and, sadly, won't be the last. And other parents will inevitably follow in your footsteps -- kicking and screaming, crying, numb. Other parents whose lives you might be able to make a tiny bit easier through the benefit of your own bitter experience. There aren't a lot of positives to being a cancer mom, but making someone else's burden lighter, if only by letting them know they are not alone in this battle? That's definitely one of them.
