Fears

I am sitting in the town library while S is in the Children’s Room for 3 year old story time. The last time I sat in these chairs was in the spring of 2003 while M was in 3 year old story time and – you guessed it – just before C got sick.

I haven’t spent much time in the library since then, and not for that reason. Our life just took a different path. We’d play in the playground outside the library, and C was in school next to the library, and our wonderful summer sitter would bring them in, but there never seemed to be time for me come in and poke around or get the kids participate in programs. Maybe it was subconscious avoidance.

I knew when I signed up S for story time I’d have a few memories, but the memories and feelings I had weren’t what I expected. When I sat down in these chairs, I felt great sadness for lost innocence. I remembered chatting naively with the other moms, knitting a baby jumper for a cousin (and I never did finish it), never imagining what could happen.

A couple of weeks later, while C was still on the vent, my dear friend L came from DC to help care for M while my husband and I were so occupied at the hospital. We tried to keep M’s life as normal as possible, so L brought M to story time. She told the other moms what was going on.

I never did get back to story time with M. By the time C was home and stable, the spring session of story time was done. I saw the other moms around town a bit and we were cordial, but clearly they had no idea what to say, so didn’t, and I didn’t feel any need to push the issue. I was enough of a wreck. By that time, everything had changed for me anyway.

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People tell me how wonderful their 40s are, and I believe them. I can see how it can be so. I have bigger fears about 40s, though.

My husband’s mother and aunt were both diagnosed with and died from cancer in their 40s. My husband already has had a colonoscopy with removal of polyps that showed adenomatous change. That is, they were pre-cancerous.

I worry about keeping him and us healthy though our 40s. I see 50 as this great goal. If we can get him (especially) to 50 then the kids’ base memories of our family will be strong and they will be their own.

We’re careful with all the screening we need to do. His regular colonoscopy, my mammograms, etc. I try to take reassurance where I can. When we had our life insurance physicals a few years ago, we were able to get the best possible rates for our risk factors/age groups because we’ve been careful about eating well and all that. Cholesterol levels, blood pressure, etc., were all excellent.

I don’t want to let this fear take over my life, but it is there. My/our experience with C’s illness plays into it. The understanding of how impermanent it all can be. Sometimes it feels hard to live with that knowledge.

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M has his annual cardiology appointment this afternoon. We’re doing everything we’re supposed to for him. No upper body straining, antibiotics before dental appointments. How I wish the ultrasound this afternoon would show no increased enlargement of his aortic root. I so don’t want him to have to go on ace inhibitors or beta blockers. He’s only 7, almost 8, and I understand that those drugs can dull the mind. But if they are needed to keep him alive…well, how can I say no?

I can usually block this out of my head on a daily basis, but oh, how I worry about my sweet, cheeky M. He said to me, about two years ago, shortly after one of these check ups, “Mommy, if I grow up, I want to be a firefighter.”

If?

No, it can’t be “if.” It has to be “when.” Has to be. I can’t live with thinking about it any other way.