Why do dates play such a significant role in cancer parents/patients lives and lives of those that loose a child? I have been asking myself this for quite awhile now. Our minds tend to play cruel jokes on us. We will be chugging along in life just fine and then realize the significance of the day and in 2.5 seconds your day has gone to hell.
We know we can't rewind time and take back the day. We know there is no mulligans in life and that no matter how much you want it to be like groundhog day it's not. September 16th is now a day associated in mind with hope. Hope for the future of a cancer free life for Keegan. I remember thinking on this day that we got through radiation and quite possibly killed every cancer cell in Keegan's little body (today a year ago was his last proton beam radiation treatment in Bloomington Indiana). Today though, September 16th, 2012 is a bitter day. That hope that I had a year ago was ill fated, in just over a month we would find out that the radiation really didn't do ANYTHING at all and that Keegan's cancer was worse than it ever had been. The radiation seemed to "feed" the cancer, not destroy it like everyone thought.
The worst part this year is that my husband is not home with me. He is about 2000 miles away while I am here, playing the date game in my head. We were so happy a year ago to return home as our little family living in the same space for the first time since July when we went to Florida on vacation. We were so happy for what the future would hold and the possible return of the use of Keegan's legs. How fleeting those moments now seem.
Why 'o why do I do this to myself?
Right before we walked into this building for the last time:
After ringing the bell on the wall behind Ry, signals you have completed your radiation (its kinda a big deal):
Our little family during the party to celebrate the end of radiation: