Thursday, 7 June 2018
Today marks six years since the day they wheeled me into my cytoreductive surgery in Calgary. There was always a risk that I wouldn't wake up, always a risk that they couldn't do anything. Always a risk.
I held my husband's hand tight and thought about our son. When we'd met with my doctor I'd asked him for five years. Just five. A. was 7, and so little. If I could have five more years I could help him through some rough waters ahead. We could have adventures and experiences together, the three of us. We could grow together and make memories to wrap around like warm blankets in the night.
My surgery went amazingly well. Miraculously they got it all, and chemo followed up ( just in case). I asked him if I'd have those 5 years, and he said there was no reason why I couldn't have ten, or twenty. That life sometimes gives you that best possible outcome - I am so thankful for it.
Six years ago I didn't dare dream about the future. I mourned the things that I would miss, the milestones with my son. I struggled to think ahead of how I could prepare him and my husband for a life without me. When I woke up after surgery ( I use the term loosely, as I have practically no memory of the first few days thanks to anesthesia) all my thoughts went back to the two of them. Once I was in a room I was able to have my family put up pictures of my son... his drawings, his sweet smiling face. That was what I looked at every day, what made me get up and walk around the ward, what made me push myself to hope and heal.
These past six years I had the opportunity to really focus on our son. Still a work in progress, as no family escape unscathed from a cancer battle. It affects us all. A. is thriving; resilient, determined and overall kind, our son surprises me every day. I give thanks every day for the privilege of spending time with him and Chris, for all the adventures we have shared. Fall of 2016 I even got to go with him to film a movie overseas for 2 months -- and despite all my worries my health was fine.
In a year or so he'll be graduating high school ( early for his age) and he has grown into an amazing young man.
We're looking forward to the future. To the plans and adventures, to the hopes and dreams. Hope never left us, but now it feels like we are free to dream again. <3