I now have a teenager

When I was diagnosed my kids were "so young". As if that were the tragic part of the whole experience. I often wonder why people would say that to me. Yeah, you read that right. People would say that to me all the time. "Wow - your kids were 2 and 4? That's so young!" As if I needed a reminder that my kids could grow up without even remembering their mother. But now, it's been just over 8 years and the kids are growing up - or should I say - have already grown up. At 13 and 11 there's no risk they won't remember me now. They've reached the age where they're practically taking care of themselves. The funny thing is that it's the cancer that they don't remember. They've heard me talk about it - particularly since my 11 year old just got the HPV vaccine. But to them it's clinical and abstract. I get eye-rolls when I talk about health. Just this week I was told that I was being silly because I chastised my kid for not washing a pear. I was told: "If pesticides were going to kill me they would have done it already." I can hardly remember what it was like to be so carefree. But I was once like that. Full of confidence that I was invincible and that nothing could get me down.

I'm not that carefree anymore. Don't get me wrong, I don't spend my days worrying that my cancer will return. In fact it sometimes is so far down on my priority list that I even forget to make the appointments to do my annual exams on time. Last year I never got my blood drawn. However, it has robbed me of being completely carefree. But I expect that nobody who has lived this long has made it through untouched by tragedy in some form or another. As we head into the holiday season I'm hoping that I can touch people in a positive way; to brighten someone's day just a bit. Take their minds off all their troubles with a friendly smile or a kind gesture. So, to anyone who still follows this or stumbles on this, I wish you all my love as we head into December 2018.