I was nervous about making my turban wearing debut. I wasn't sure what the reaction of the students was going to be, even though we had prepped them for this moment. A few weeks prior we, the school counselor and myself, had visited each classroom and talked with all the students. For the younger students we used the words "invisible boo boo", taken from a poem that was written for small children about c*****. The older students, grades 5 and 6, I attempted to use the technical term, invasive ductal carcinoma, but they were very inquisitive and I wasn't about to lie to them. When they asked if it was c*****, I was honest with them and said yes.
It wasn't as if I didn't want them to know what I had. In fact, I didn't mind at all. I have been extremely open with anyone who inquires. If that weren't the case I wouldn't have this blog. But when you're telling someone else's child, and not knowing what experiences they have had or what their association of that word might be, I thought it would be better to try to phrase it differently, in a way that wouldn't seem as frightening. I didn't want any of them to be upset or scared. But since children talk and there are plenty of older students with younger siblings, they are mostly all aware of what I have at this point.
There were two reasons for talking with them. The first was to make them aware of the fact that I was going to look differently in the coming weeks. We explained how I would have to take some medicine that would probably make my hair fall out, but that it wasn't anything to be upset about. I would wear head coverings of every color until eventually my hair grew back.
The second very important reason to talk with them was to explain that they would have to respect my personal space for awhile. If you work in a school you know just how much children love to hug their teachers. You also know how much children, especially the little bitty ones, have their fingers in their mouths and noses. There are always plenty of germs and viruses floating around in schools that I would be very susceptible to when my white blood cell counts are low after chemo. I wanted them to know the reason I couldn't hug them, at least for now.
Overall, that first day back was a positive experience. Sure the kids had questions, but I expected that. Did your hair start falling out Mrs. McCreary? I heard that a lot that first day. I had one fourth grader ask me if I was going to die, to which I just laughed and assured her I wasn't. There was a first grader that told me she knew exactly what I was going through because she had c***** once, too, and apparently her two friends did, also, explaining how it hurt when their hair broke off and fell out. Their innocence just made me smile.
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| The front of the shirt my coworkers were wearing |
But the very best part to my first day back was the surprise from my coworkers. The entire staff was wearing pink breast c***** awareness t-shirts. They had also started a team in my honor for the walk/run on Mothers' Day.
From the moment I shared my diagnosis they have all been wonderfully supportive and compassionate. They have been providing my family with meals twice a week. I have gotten cards and small gifts. And I recently found out about a fund raising event one individual has planned on my behalf. I am so incredibly blessed to work with such a wonderful group of individuals.
The outpouring of generosity and compassion doesn't end with my coworkers. A few of the teachers from my children's school have sent home dinners on the school bus with the kids. I have received cards and donations from people I have only met a time or two or sometimes not at all. They have heard my story through someone I know and feel compelled to reach out. I really am so appreciative of all the kind words, love and support so many have shown to my family during this time.
Oh yes, and my family...I can't forget about how wonderfully helpful my family has been as well. My in-laws have kept the younger boys to have them complete their homework. My mom has been helping with laundry and I've sent my sisters on shopping trips and airport pickups.
Then, there are my friends. I receive almost daily words of encouragement. I get texts and emails to say "just thinking about you" or "praying for you". Only people who know from experience will ever know what that means to me. There are some days that feel so lonely and those texts and emails carry me through.
And he'll never know it, because words could never express, how grateful I am to have Bob in my life. I had plenty of complaints about Bob, as I'm sure all you married woman do of your husbands, before this whole mess started. But now, now I couldn't complain even if I tried. Every morning (except this morning, hmm...) he makes me oatmeal and leaves it on the table for me, or if I don't have to go to work he brings it to me in bed, along with my bottled water and vitamin supplements for the morning. He takes care of all those things that need taken care of when you have four small children, all the last minute trips to the store, birthday party drop offs and pick ups, looking for lost library books, science fair projects, book reports, hair cuts, getting them fed, putting away the leftovers, and so much more, so that when I come home I can just be with my kids and not have to worry about doing anything but spending time with them. And all those things that I complained about before, well, now really don't seem significant. It really is all about perspective.
It's been said that "an individual doesn't get c*****, that an entire family does.....". When I said this to my friend, she pointed out that it isn't an individual, or a family, but an entire community of people that have been touched by my diagnosis. And she is so right.
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