I found her behind the drawn curtain.
She was sitting cross legged in the center of the bed with tears rolling down her face. Her bright blue eyes were were all red from crying. She was all alone, trying to compose herself, with no success. The faster she wiped away her tears the faster they flowed.
I gave her a big hug and sat down across from her.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“It’s nothing.”
“I see. It must be a pretty big nothing.”
I smiled at her and gently patted her hand, waiting patiently for another few tissues to find their soggy demise.
“I’m going to miss my son’s Chanukkah party at his gan* tonight and I feel terrible about it.” She finally blurted out.
“I have a class tonight and I can’t miss it again because I missed it last week.”
I sat there listening to her while at the same time thinking to myself at how amazingly resilient people are. Here she is, in the midst of chemotherapy, trying to raise her kids and run her house yet she is still sticking to her plan for the future. She is continuing her education to get a degree in special education.
“I don’t usually take him to gan* in the morning anymore or I would’ve remembered about the party earlier .”
And then I understood that it wasn’t just about the party. Actually, the party wasn’t the issue at all, it was just the proverbial straw that had broken the camel’s back. It was guilt, and fear, and worry and the hardest of all adjusting, or trying to a adjust to a new reality that has shaken the foundations of her world.
My patient is a young mother, who one day out of nowhere, was thrust into the harsh and scary world of Breast Cancer and chemotherapy.
Every mother struggles with misplaced guilt about how they’re not “there” enough for their kids. Now add into that equation feeling physically ill and still trying to cope with all of the same day to day issues whilst the fear of what will be is hovering over your head.
“I’m going to keep him home from the party so he won’t be there without a parent.” Her husband is a military career officer and while he tries to get home as much as he can, it’s not always possible.
“Maybe someone else can go with him.” I countered.
“My mother is watching all 3 of my kids tonight.”
“Maybe you can find another babysitter for the other 2 kids and your mother can go with your son to the party? You can ask a friend of yours to tape it and you can have a private “party viewing” with him tomorrow.”
“I don’t know if my mother has patience for these types of parties, but you know what? That’s what I’ll do.”
I don’t know what exactly possessed me at that moment to ask my next question.
“By the way, how old is your son?”
“Seven months old.”
I looked at her, chuckled to myself and then could not control the hysterical laughter that emanated from deep within me.
“Are you kidding me? This was all about a seven month old baby missing a party? Seven month olds don’t even have separation anxiety from their mothers yet. “
And then the corner of her mouth twitched upwards, a smile slowly crept up onto her face, her body relaxed as if a spring had just broken and she joined in my laughter.
After a few minutes of much needed release from the needless tension she said, “Thanks for helping me put things into proportion.”
“I think you just needed the crying session. It’s good you had the cry. Your kids do know how much you love them, right?”
A huge smile spread across her face. “Of course they do.”
I keep thinking about this incident. I keep thinking about how many facts we’re often missing when we try to help someone, or even worse when we judge them or think we know what’s best for someone else.
I also realize, yet again, that people can’t possibly understand what someone going through cancer is coping with. For the child’s ganenet* to be pressuring the mother about bringing the child to a party is beyond absurd. The fact is, a party for seven month olds is for the party giver, not the babies. And, even if the child would have had a great time, or even if the child was older, where’s the compassion for the mother? Is there not enough on her head without added guilt heaped on? I’m sure it was all done with good intentions, but obviously the facts that would have bought comprehension to the situation were missing. After all, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
How often have you not had all the facts?
*Gan-The Hebrew word for preschool but it’s used for all kinds of daycare for kids not yet in first grade.
*Ganenet-The Hebrew word for the preschool teacher who teaches in a “gan”.
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