I'm Not Brave

We're spoken to quite a few people this past week or so who have found the words describing our fantastic son quite an inspiration. And when this event I am about to tell happened earlier today and I retold it to PJ, he said straight away that it needs to be put here. It frightens me to have to write this as well as makes me feel wholly hopeless. As parents, we're here to protect our children, aren't we? And yet, when it comes to things like childhood cancer, it's so very evident that we don't have it within our powers to protect our children 100%.

And so here's what happened today;

Leo and I were cuddled together watching Loony Tunes Babies and one of Leo's favourite characters, Bugs Bunny, was being particularly brave. I took the opportunity to say that I thought Leo was brave and even more so than Bugs Bunny. Leo adamantly shook his head and said 'I'm not brave'. I said that he was and that his cards from family and friends once he'd finished his extensive chemo and treatment a week or so ago, told him he was a brave boy and many people thought he was very brave. He answered, 'I'm not brave...I'm scared'.

Upset and shocked as I was, I said 'it's okay to be scared'. I just felt there's no point telling him not to be scared. We learned our lesson when at the beginning of this whole thing, he was getting very angry and we told him he was being naughty, thereby also getting angry ourselves. The therapists told us that of course he'd be angry. It was only natural. Life was scary and made him angry because we'd be in Spain, he was settled in school and had lots of fun with his friends. What could I say? Tell him not to be scared? What's the point in that?

Where did we go so wrong? Are we not doing enough to protect him from all this cr*p? I have to admit it does answer a massive question I've had whereby each time I read his cards to him which congratulated him on being brave, he got really angry and very upset. At least now we know what's going on and will ask the Clic Sargent therapist on Tuesday what we can do to help him, or at last try to...

On a more positive note, he has started eating these last couple of days. He demolished a small plate of spaghetti bolognese last night as well as some chips and tiny piece of chicken for lunch. So hopefully no nasogastric tube will be needed but we'll wait and see. He is also meant to start nursery again on Tuesday afternoon but if his bloods have not come back up to show he has some sort of an immune system, then we'll have to postpone until his neutophils and white blood count are considered safe.

Today we pretended to have a picnic on the beach by way of laying a towel on the floor in the lounge and eating lunch there. Leo's imagination was awesome as he built sandcastles and then wiped his hands off before putting on some suncream. He also needed sunglasses and told PJ and I to make sure our sunhats were on our heads...all make-believe but very real. It really minded us of the afternoons spent as a family and with friends on the beaches at Los Alcazares in Murcia.

Speaking of which, Leo's school in Spain, King's College have today held an amazing fundraising event with proceeds going to Clic Sargent here in the UK as well as a similar local charity in Murcia. It sounds like they had a very busy day with a huge golf tournament, a magician, lunch for 160 people, a raffle, face painting and all sorts of other activities. I'd imagine most of the people attending either cannot even remember Leo, have never met him or of course, remember our cheeky, energetic blond haired, blue-eyed boy from when he was in the Pre-Nursery class with Miss Cara and Miss Gill. He may not look the same, but inside our scared boy, he's still very cheeky, which is somewhat reassuring!

We're sorry that none of us could attend this tremendous event at King's College and often feel we've let them down by not attending, however as it turns out, Leo needed us both here - his temperature is still playing up, his food issue needed to be dealt with and whoever attended would not have been back in time for the meeting with his oncologist tomorrow afternoon, where we discuss for the final time, whether we head into the maintenance chemo regime for the next six months.

Tomorrow's another day...