“Get away from me”, she screamed.
“That’s fine, whatever you need.”
“Daddy, please sit with me”.
“I’m here, okay”.
“Get Away!“
My three-year-old daughter, Laurel, suffered through waves of severe gastrointestinal pain, a side-effect of her chemotherapy. In a frantic effort to find comfort, she would scream violently while pushing and kicking me away. Then, she would ask for me to come back to her – only to scream and push me away again.
Laurel was desperately searching for some way to make the pain stop, some sense of control. I found myself rejected and helpless to do anything except watch and wait for it to subside. I don’t know if this is a typical experience or if it’s unique to Laurel. I do know that it really, really hurt. This was the most painful experience of my life. And it repeated several times per day, every day, for weeks.
Then came the guilt: My toddler is in excruciating pain while fighting cancer. How dare I feel hurt? How dare I expect her to let me hold her? How dare I feel angry at my poor, sick child?! What a sorry excuse for a father – she deserves so much better.
I wish I could say that I had some grand realization that made it all better and worthwhile. I wish this was a hero’s journey of transformation by trial and tribulation. The truth is, I can’t and it’s not. It was awful, I made lots of mistakes, and I still feel guilty about it.
However, I did learn something important from this experience: Fighting cancer hurts. It’s painful for the patient, it’s painful for the caregivers, and it’s pain that’s unavoidable. The best we can do is accept this fact, hold each other close between the waves of suffering, and maintain hope that it will get better in time.