Mason on Christmas morning...does he look like he has cancer? No!
So that was Christmas, done for another 12 months. I apologize for not sending out Christmas greetings and well wishes to all our family and friends on and off social media, but this Christmas 2017 will, for me, always be remembered as one of the most emotionally trying holiday seasons of my life.
Oh, Dec. 25 was just fine. Had the entire family at the house again for brunch, gift opening, the five grand-kids playing and having fun, chaotic Christmas dinner and then an evening relaxing. The day itself is always great, but this day was as special as the week before was difficult.
Special because two days earlier we had received the greatest Christmas gift of my life – news from the oncologist at the Stollery Children’s Hospital that our two-year-old grandson, Mason, did NOT have cancer. That news, coming 11 days after our son Matthew and his wife Geri had been told Mason likely has cancer.
He was taken to the hospital to check what was first thought to be a hernia. It wasn’t. Several tests and examinations later, the word from the doctor was the growing lump on his lymph nodes was likely cancer … because they could find no other solution.
I will probably never forget, even with my horrible memory, that moment, 3:10 p.m. Tuesday, Dec. 12. I was driving on 62nd avenue crossing the Anthony Henday overpass when Matt called and uttered one of the most frightening words in the English language, cancer.
That led to four days of almost constant tears, worrying and nightmares. I don’t know how many times my wife Lynne and I would just look at each other and burst into tears. Yes, even this non-emotional old fart broke down …never knew I could cry so hard. Can’t even begin to imagine the emotional turmoil Matt and Geri were going through.
It absolutely broke my heart that every time I looked at Mason, or even thought about him, I had to fight back tears and horrible thoughts about how life could go on without him. Hell, I couldn’t even watch a TV show about any kind of family struggle without having to fight back tears. Never felt so helpless and useless in my entire life.
I was lying in bed about 4:30 a.m., Saturday, once again having been awakened by nightmarish thoughts about Mason when my mind ran through a gauntlet of dramatically different thoughts.
I’m not a religious person, have always struggled with the idea of God, so that morning my mind said, in no particular order. There is no God. Can’t be because no fair-minded God would allow cancer in a two-year-old who is the most innocent of children. Well, if there is a God, then fuck you God. If you allowed this to happen to Mason then you’re an evil bastard. Well, if there is such a powerful force then turn your hated towards children towards me, give me the cancer and leave Mason alone.
It went on like that for a couple of hours. Then I simply said, No, Screw that, Mason does not have cancer. He’s too healthy, too active … shows no other signs of the most horrible disease. So I found solace in that thought until the Wednesday when Mason went in for his biopsy.
That put more dark thoughts into my head and I again struggled to fight back the tears, even thought the doctor dangled a ray of hope by saying he wasn’t so sure it was cancer because Mason showed no other symptoms. So at least we had hope.
Problem is, we couldn’t expect to get the biopsy results for at least a week, maybe more since we headed into the holiday period. How in the hell could we get through Christmas with the thought of cancer hanging over our heads? I had toyed with the idea of just cancelling Christmas at our house, but knew immediately that was stupid thought: we have five wonderful grand children Lynne and I love with all our hearts and would never think of spoiling Christmas for them. So we would have to make this Christmas special for Mason.
The little man taking a break from all the fun.
Then came the most wonderful phone call, from Matt on Saturday saying the oncologist had just called to confirm it was not cancer. In THREE DAYS they got the results, obviously a rush order so we would know before Christmas. I wonder if the doctor would have withheld the news until after Christmas if it was bad news? I knew the Stollery was a special place for children, having learned about a year earlier when our grand-daughter Sunna, then five years old, had open heart surgery there. This just confirmed it even more.
I wonder if Edmontonians appreciate how fortunate we are to have the Stollery Children’s Hospital, the Cross Cancer Institute and the Mazankowski Heart Institute in the city? Three of the best health care facilities in the country, with some of the finest doctors and nurses available anywhere.
Hearing the news that Mason does not have cancer felt like someone had just pulled out the sword that had been buried in my heart for 10 days. So Christmas was special and hectic and wonderful. Even though we still don’t know what is wrong with Mason, other than it is weird infection the lab is watching to see what it develops into, the hearts were much relieved by Christmas day.
It did feel great to hear the grand-kids laughing and bugging each other like kids do. I knew the day was right when I heard Geri in a hearty, full-throated laughing session at one point.
Asher and Naveen just being silly.
So I apologize for not being very communicative over the holiday period and not keeping up my ski blog. But life is almost back to normal – almost because we still don’t know what Mason’s infection is – and even though winter has settled in and frozen most of the country with minus 25-35 C temperatures, I will get back to writing about skiing in the days ahead.
Hope you all had a Merry Christmas and here’s wishing you all a happy, healthy 2018.
