Dealing With Cancer as a Parent

My son was 11 when I was diagnosed. I didn’t want to tell him at first, because I didn’t know how extensive my treatment would be. He knew that I was sick; he just didn’t know the extent of it.

What ultimately made me tell him was the fact that he had a horrible attitude, and I was pretty much at my breaking point. I was scared to death about what the future would hold, and the last thing I needed was a smart alecky tween driving me up the wall. His dad and I sat him down, and explained to him that I had cancer.

He was understandably very upset. When most people hear the word cancer, they imagine a death sentence. We told him that they caught it early, and that I would be having surgery, which would hopefully remove all the cancer from my body. We talked to him in terms that he could understand. And he got it. He was in fifth grade at the time, so he had a basic idea of the reproductive system. Of course, he was way too embarrassed to go into any detail, but he got it.

After my surgery, I had some minor complications. Because of this, I was pretty much bedridden from June until August. It was very hard on my son. He wanted to go out and do things, and I just wasn’t able. I felt horrible amounts of guilt.

I started him on Gardasil as soon as I was diagnosed. The last thing I wanted was for him to give a girl HPV, leading to a potentially life-threatening cancer. And to my surprise, he opened up to me, and talked about what he was learning in sex ed.

Reilly actually happened to be one of my biggest supporters. He talks to me about how I'm feeling, checks in to makes sure I'm ok. This past November, he walked as a member of my team in the National Race to End Women's Cancer. I couldn't be more proud of him.

I know he was scared, but I am grateful that my disease opened up communication between the two of us. Having cancer is an incredibly difficult thing, but it did bring my son and I closer together, and for that, I am thankful.

xoxo Jennie