Everyone needs someone to be a safe harbor

I met David on the internet. It was to become on of the closest, most intense relationships of my life.  For you see, a few months before he crossed my path his daughter finished the same protocol for the same type of brain tumor that my daughter just had started.  They had successfully traversed the waters that to me were completely unknown — and frankly terrifying.  On the pediatric brain tumor listserv, he seemed to know the pitfalls, the warning signs, the hard stuff as well as ways to make the best of life no matter the circumstance.  David became my anchor keeping me from washing away while enduring the torture of watching my daughter deal with the harsh side effects of her treatment.  During that time I would often call or write every day. A couple of cycles into chemotherapy, I was having a tough time.  The hits seemed to keep coming for my girl.  She had been neurologically devastated by surgery. Radiation had taken her hair — hopefully temporarily.  The tattoos though would be a reminder for life.  A wicked gastroparesis was a gift from vincristine.  Some weeks there was little in and nothing out.  The thief, cisplatinum, now was stealing her hearing. Clearly, I was overwhelmed drowning in sadness and angst. My voice trembled as I tried to convey my fears, regrets, guilt and total lack of a vision for a long term.  Even through the airwaves, one could see that I was on the verge of tears — ready to fall apart at any moment.  Then...
Source: Kevin, M.D. - Medical Weblog - Category: General Medicine Authors: Tags: Physician Oncology/Hematology Pediatrics Source Type: blogs