By Margot | September 23, 2006
I finally got up the guts tonight to tell Sammy that he might lose his hair. I’d told him on Friday on the way to the radiation simulation that we had to do chemo on Monday and that it would help the pain in his leg and his itchy, dry eyes and nose and he said, “Ok.” I told him the medicine might make him feel pretty crummy for a while and he asked why. So I told him about how in order for it to kill the cancer cells it has to be very strong medicine and that sometimes it’s so strong that it makes kids feel crummy. “Oh.” he said. I asked if he had any questions and he said no. I told him if he wanted to ask or talk about it that I’m always here to listen to him any answer any questions he has. He said he didn’t have any questions and cheerfully changed the subject (I don’t even remember to what). I expected that telling him about his hair would be different. I expected tears, protests, panic in his little voice.
Andrew fell asleep at 6:30 tonight and Sammy was waiting for me to put Charlie to sleep so I could do a puzzle with him and read him Nate the Great. Charlie had a rough evening tonight, don’t know why he cried so much unless his little tummy hurt. He finally fell asleep in my arms and Sammy and I were talking about something or other and I said, “Hey, tomorrow we’re going to meet Cathy and Ally and Andrew at Legoland and then Monday we have to start chemo.” He said, cheerfully, “Yay and Booo! Yay for Legoland and Booo for chemo.” I said, “I know, ick, but we don’t have stay over night in the hospital for this one, we get to come home at night.” “We do?” “Yes, but you might feel bad and (deep breath) it might make you lose your hair.” “I might lose my hair?” he asked interestedly but not horrified. “Yes,” I said. Then he looked at Charlie and rubbed his little head and said cheerfully, “I’ll look just like Charlie.” I said, “Yeah, you and Charlie will have the same hairdo.” He laughed and said, “Yeah, we’ll have hairdos. I’ll look like Charlie, except I won’t be tiny.” Then he kissed Charlie on the top of his head and said, “Let’s do the puzzle now.”
Yet another life lesson learned from my six year-old son.