I woke at 3:30 this morning, exhausted yet unable to go back to sleep. Feeling emotionally drained and my mind is running a million miles an hour. Make it to work and can barely concentrate. I order two books from Amazon: "Mom and the Polka-Dot Boo-Boo" and "Mom has Cancer!"
I don't want to be at work. I'm scared. I'm tired. I need to take Ryder to the dentist. I go down to his school (it is in the same building I work in) and there he is, so happy to see me and excited to go to the dentist. We talk about his teeth, dormant volcanoes, and how crocodiles have feet but they don't wear shoes because that would be silly. I welcome the break from my own head.
He is amazing at the dentist. Does everything they ask him to do. Curious, not fearful. I watch and smile and mimic his open mouth when he opens really wide. No cavities but the dentist is concerned about his cross-bite and how close his contacts are on his molars. She is curious if his permanent molars are coming up and pushing against his baby teeth so she takes x-rays. I remember too late that dental x-rays have been linked to brain cancer. Cancer! What have I just done? I am back in my head and the wave of guilt is drowning me.
I had promised him a special treat for being so good at the dentist - lunch at Taco Time. He plays with his ninja and bouncy ball between bites of chicken nuggets and mexi-fries. I can barely taste my food or hold it down. I think about how Taco Time was my special treat after the dentist when I was a kid; my mom would always drive me to the Taco Time in Federal Way and then laugh at me when I had sauce running down my chin that I couldn't feel because of the novocain. My mom. I'm feeling scared again. Ugh...this day is not going well. I lean in and give Ry a hug not wanting to let go. He hugs me tight, kisses me and says, "Mommy, I love you. This is a great day."
You know what? Ry will remember this day just the way you remember dentist trip days with your mom. Solidly, vividly, clearly. As a great day.
ReplyDeleteHold onto that, even though its a scary, shaky, shit day for you. You are still a badass, present mama. You are still finding the presence of mind to talk to your son about teeth, volcanoes, and how crocodiles don't wear shoes.
Take a day off work sometime for your own mental health. I'll clear my calendar and take you to the korean spa or the japansese garden so you can get some good energy in and cry or swear or do whatever else seems to need doing. love you much.
Brandy, you are an amazing writer. Sometimes trauma unlocks beautiful gifts inside of us. When I had my world turned upside down 8 years ago, I started writing as a way to cope. Now it is one of my greatest joys in life. Already, I can see a beautiful writer in you. Keep at it. It's healing, and it's illuminating for us to be with you on your journey.
ReplyDeleteEndless love,
Sarah T.
No mother should ever have to buy the book, "Mom has Cancer" to read to her children. I think routine and the little things are going to get you through this, mentally. Until you need a mental day and call off. Much love and support, Kerry
ReplyDeleteB, you are doing so great, and even when it feels like you are not, you really really are. You are standing in the chaos, minute by minute, day by day. It is enough to get through the day with your lovely family, you rock, and inspire me.
ReplyDeleteLove Love Love
Brandy, the "normal" is what you need right now to hang on. Relish every normal moment and know that Ryder will be fine. Please call me, I am here for you and I won't give you bullshit about breast cancer.:) You will amaze yourself. S
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