Friday, July 31, 2009

People Die From This

As my parents are hanging out with Sean and telling him about the surgery next week, I decided to stay out of the room to breathe. I thought I'd write because I need to get things off my chest. I need to write before going back to Sean's room and put on a happy face. And be ready for the questions he'll be asking, no matter how hard they might be.

And of course, for all those people who knows about Sean and his condition either through real life or this blog or Twitter. Don't think I can thank you all enough for the constant support, putting up with me, and asking about Sean. Thank you all, can't thank you enough.

When I first heard about Sean's diagnoses, I immediately thought "hey people are winning this battle everyday, if it's anyone I know Sean can do it" Maybe is because of my optimistic personalities but really, I never thought about what's ahead. I never thought about the impossible, that Sean just might not make it through this. And as days progressed...the thought changed. Seeing Sean and others crying from cancer pains and pain from the treatment snapped me back into reality. People die from this, every. Single. Day.

Sean does so well to hide his sickness with all the laughs, the smiles, and even the "insults" to his cousin. But at times, it feels as if Sean is older and wiser than I am. Asking me questions I never thought was possible from a 5 year old. And like any other 5 year old, within the next minute, Sean would challenge me to a game of Wii Tennis (and beat me every time)

Just as we all thought he is getting better. The scans did not agree to our thoughts, prayers, and hope. After briefly looking at the scans, I realize something is wrong. Now I may not be a doctor, I may not be a radiologist, and I definitely ain't no genius. But I know it's bad when that scan of Sean's head is mostly dark gray, the lighter grays CANNOT be a good thing.

Before my parents left post, my Mom told me that it will be ok if I don't have to hear what the doctor needs to say. That sometimes, not knowing might be the best thing. I thought about it...and decided to listen in. After all, he is my cousin and though knowing might make this that much more difficult, Sean is my cousin and I care and love him.

Two hours later, I was sitting in a cold room with my parents. (Funny how the temperature in those rooms are always so cold. Maybe they think it might freeze our if...) It brought back hunting memories of doctors coming into my hospital room telling me I wouldn't ever walk again. But this is so different, this wasn't about me, this was about someone I care and love. And worse of all, it's news about a 5 year old little boy.

No one...ESPECIALLY not 5 year-olds should have to go through this.

The doc introduced himself, talked a bit about what he and others doctors at the hospital can do for Sean and showed us the scans.

I fucking hate it when I'm right. Why do I have to be right...

Even with the treatments...the nasty tumor just doesn't want to quit. In fact, it's growing like ticks on a street rat and it just doesn't want to stop. Solution, or one of the things we CAN do at this point is surgery. It just might be the only thing that will save Sean. By then, I've zoned out at what's going to happen. I didn't want to hear the bullshit sympathy he was giving my parents and me. I didn't want to have to think that Sean, my 5 year old cousin, would have to go under the knife. And for that moment, I wish it could have been me.

Surgery is scheduled for Wednesday and the doctor said it might take 4 hours and most of the time, it takes more times it's worse than the scan. (Then why the fuck did they invent the scans in the first place if they can't tell you EVERYTHING?!?) Afterward, Sean will be staying in ICU until he's good going back to the other rooms. Then, the plan is to focus on radiation to make sure the bugger tumor doesn't grow and of course, chemotherapy after that. Just really pray that everything will work out...and soon.

While some of my friends my age are worrying about the summer being almost over and school, I worry about Sean. I see his smile, his pain, and his tears daily and really wish I can take it all away. To make him healthy so HE could go back to school and make new friends, not ME.

And during my time of need...I wonder why I opened my Bible. I looked for the pages the text that would make me feel that much better. I look for texts that can make all this go away, that can help answer the question "Why Sean and not me?" but for some reason...they're not there. But from the experience, I know everything happens for a reason and God has a plan for all of us.

I just hope this plan will be a good one. I really do.
It'd be a great favor, Sean. It'd be great...

I better had back to Sean's room...he'll be wondering where the hell I went and if I wanted to play Wii with him again I'm sure.

Cancer sucks. But I suck more because I keep getting my butt handed to me at Wii Tennis.

Love you Sean, more than you know.


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