Tuesday, 22 September 2009

Being an 'oncomom', 'Catherine Confidence' and 'SCB's'















(Catherine and her mum before the latest hairloss.)


I've taken the inspiration for this from Suzanne's post at: http://krokkenoster.wordpress.com/2009/09/15/week-34-day-2/ as it got me thinking (thankyou, Suzanne).

Suzanne writes about how odd it can be being an 'oncomom' - a mum dealing with the oncology treatment of a child. It is quite hard to go through something like this without becoming a bit defined by a child's illness. It is a bit like being a first time mum, when suddenly you become 'Milly's mum' or 'Jake's mum' and all the attention goes from you to your child. Being an 'oncomom' is a bit like doing that again but with the added look of distress or discomfort in people's eyes when they first find out, rather than the one of 'isn't he or she perfect/cute/squashed' that you get with a newborn.

It is also odd how sometimes you end up discussing various chemotherapy drugs and neutrophil counts with complete strangers as if they had any idea what you were talking about. Occasionally, of course, you meet an expert, disguised as a regular individual, who understands the intricacy of different chemo regimes. THEN you get to have a huge discussion about chemo and their experiences either treating cancers or living with them.


I have come to feel, when people ask how Catherine is, that I could reel off any number of deep medical discussions about different forms of treatment. This weekend, for example, I even diagnosed Catherine's infection before the doctors! How can this be? I'm not medically trained, nor did I have any aspirations to be in the medical profession. What's more, I used to have a phobia of hospitals - now they feel like a second home. I walk into a hospital and immediately go into a state of apathy, based on days of being 'inside' and having to turn my brain off because there is nothing else to do. I know where the coffee machine is, I know how 'society' works in hospital. I know what sort of conversation is acceptable with the other parents and what to avoid.


But the most important thing about being an 'oncomom' for me is about remembering that I'm in this for the long-haul (turn away now if you don't like emotional bits).

Mark and I had various aims at the beginning of treatment. Firstly, that we would preserve our daughter's 'Catherine Confidence'; that the assertive, confident little girl that entered treatment in August 2008 would not lose the natural confidence and strength she has displayed, so articulately, since birth. Secondly, that Catherine would not turn into an 'SCB'. An 'SCB', as defined by the medical profession at the beginning of treatment, is a 'Spoilt Cancer Brat'. We had been warned early on that children could become extremely spoilt during treatment as parents overcompensated for their child's illness. Spoiling, they said, results in a child who is more unmanageable and demanding after treatment has ended; one who is never satisfied unless they get exactly what they want, when they want. It is not easy, when you see your child suffering, to not cave in to their demands for anything. It is not easy, when your child is feeling ill, to keep disciplining them - especially when it is hard to tell if they are being a toddler pest or are really hurting. But if Catherine is going to turn into the adult she has the potential to become, we have to keep on with these goals. I don't know if we're getting this right all the time, but it is worth a try.


We might not have had any say in how her treatment was put together. We certainly didn't have any control over the original diagnosis (supposedly 1 in 6 million children are diagnosed with childhood cancers). But we can do all we can to support and strengthen our girl, hopefully without turning her into a pretentious little miss! So if my opinion is worth anything to other oncoparents out there, whilst we might not be able to change the facts ourselves, we can work on our little individuals, focussing on their characters and personality to make the outcome, after treatment, the best we can. Let's take back a bit of control where we can!


In these early years of her life, please pray with us that we can be good enough parents to get our girl through all this in the way that will be best for her in the future. Thank you.



1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Oncoparents are on a shortcut to heaven. We certainly deserve it! :-)

Lots of love,
Your oncomom muse
Suzanne