Talking to children ...

….about cancer.

How do we do it? It’s hard enough sometimes talking to adults and explaining things but children are a completely different kettle of fish.

This isn’t a text book way of talking to children when a parent has cancer, this is just our experience.

Master and Miss Bad Fairy are eight and seven. We started off explaining that things had gone wrong in my liver, as that was the obvious bit, what with me being all yellow. Children are little sponges and before long we were having discussions about anatomy and human biology around the breakfast table. Then things got confusing! How did the bad bits get there? What will the chemo do? Will it go away again? It’s so easy to forget, particularly when they ask intelligent questions, just how old they are.

In the midst of all this, Master Bad Fairy mentioned laser guns (he’s a Star Wars fanatic) and there the story began which enabled them to “see” what was happening in a way which they felt comfortable with.

The bad bits were made from little black lego bricks which kept building walls. The chemo put some “goodies” into me (think lego versions of Luke Skywalker) and the “goodies” charged around inside my body blasting the bad bits with their laser guns! They get gentle reminders that the bad bits will be here forever and that the laser guns will run out of power and we’ll have to try new ones. For the time being they’re happy with that.

We’ve also taken them with us to the hospital so they can see where I get treated. They’ve met a couple of the chemo nurses, been a big hit with the receptionist, had a very close inspection of blood being taken (I’d offered them the chance to sit outside … but no, they wanted to see!) and a tour of the ct scanner. With the amazing powers of imagination that children have the fear of the unknown can be immense. Now they don’t worry when I have to go to the hospital because they know where I’ll be and who I’ll see.

The one thing we’ve promised them is that we will tell them whenever we’re told anything new. The most important thing, I think, is that they know they can ask anything at anytime and we will always have the time to sit and listen to their thoughts and fears.

I feel lucky .....

.... lucky to have been diagnosed with secondary cancer?

We are forever reminded of the uncertainty of life and the fact that life can end unexpectedly at any age. I've had an advanced warning. That advanced warning has prompted me to look at my life and appreciate all of the good things in it, something I may not have had the opportunity to do had I plodded on assuming that I'd live for a long time. So I am lucky!

Lucky to have a wonderful and gorgeous husband. The fact he leaves his socks on the bathroom floor is no longer something I nag about. It's not important. I love spending time with him, just being in the same room makes me feel contented and happy.

Lucky to have two amazing and beautiful children. They make me smile when I least feel like it. They fascinate me with their observations and thoughts. The world is an enchanting place when seen through the eyes of a child!

Lucky to have such brilliant friends and family.

The list could go on but I'll stop there. I'm lucky, despite and because of the cancer. All of these things were there before but now I look at them and appreciate every last little bit of them. More importantly, I feel, I have the opportunity to let these important people know how lucky I feel to have them as part of my life.