I would have normally written by now about our trip to the hospital this week, but there wasn’t one. Monday left me feeling a bit awkward. I had imagined myself waking up extra bright and early fighting the traffic that had returned in full fledge after the holidays while everyone was returning to work and school. I imagined us running late and being dropped off with Yousuf, in order for us to run upstairs to make the appointment, while Abu Yousuf parked the car. I envisioned all the people in the waiting rooms, nurses and doctors, all the familiar faces. I drew a picture of the waiting room and who might be there that day, Yousuf being accessed and having his fit but being happy afterward with a new cheap toy or sticker from the treasure chest. I imagined it, but I didn’t live it, at least not this Monday.
While I have been trying to establish a new routine, a much more relaxed one, I still am trying to hold onto the importance of the life we lived when he was sick. Throughout my day no matter what it was I was doing my mind would drift off to the couches of the waiting room at Texas Children’s Hospital. It’s nice not having to be there but I am still aching for those who are still there. At least before I could be of comfort knowing I was feeling their pain alongside them but now, while we are moving on with life and better treatment phases, I hope never to forget them.
The new worry and anxiety will come with each blood test now, wondering if it will come back with blood behaving in the old cancer ways. When I had talked to the doctor about causes for relapse and she confessed that they really don’t know why certain people relapse while others don’t, I thought of a new reason. The doctor said that her best patients with the best diet, stress-free atmosphere, and religious about taking the medications would relapse; while those who are lazy in taking every single dose and still are careless in lifestyle choices go on completely cancer free for the rest of their lives. Maybe it’s something deeper than that, and I’m not trying to accuse those who do have relapses, but perhaps the lesson wasn’t learned. No benefit that was NEEDED to come out of it continued to occur. Rather a relapse in carelessness, feeling as though a person has complete control over their health and or life, and even worse a relapse having a lack of full appreciation of oneself or children. It is this reason that, more than just concentrating on Yousuf’s physical health, I also want to continue to remember the lessons behind it. I ask Allah to please don’t ever let me forget and never let this be a wasted memory or experience.
I know that I couldn’t be with my friends in the hospital that day but instead I remembered them, I prayed for them and longed for the day that they will be able to join me, once again, in the “Well World” with me, too.